Moon Blessed
by AbyssUnknown
Summary: Twelve-year-old Harry Potter is saved by Magic and gifted with the ability to be a merman. With his world turned upside down with this new ability and its corresponding powers, Harry's survival instincts kick in as he realises he can no longer continue fitting in if he were to guard his new secret from those willing to exploit him. !IndependentHarry !GreyHarry !Non-canon-compliant
1. The Change

**Disclaimer (for this whole story): I do not own Harry Potter or H2O: Just add water. The only thing I own is the story plot for this fanfiction. No money is being made.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Change**

* * *

Magic. It surrounded him in an embrace. He sank into its welcoming arms, seeking comfort from the ever-present energy - comfort that those meant to protect him had not bothered giving - and forgot. Floating on his back, unaware that his body was being healed from not just the bruises and cuts he had recently received from his misadventure in the sea but also from the years of neglect and abuse he suffered throughout his childhood, the little wizard let go of his worries, of the little niggle of longing he always had to be loved by someone, of his fear of how he'd get back to his relatives' home (if he would not drown first), of his doubt of if he would ever survive long enough in the world to ever enjoy a day as his own person, free of others' expectations of him to be a freak, a saviour, a slave, an idiot, a tool. Instead, Harry Potter simply floated on his back, staring unfocused as his eyes trailed the droplets of water floating upwards, turning golden in the moonlight as they ascended towards the full moon that shone down into the dormant volcano crater he was in.

Magic. The one thing that had never truly let Harry down. It had been there in the form of accidental outbursts, saving Harry when he was chased by his cousin and childhood bullies, when Aunt Petunia forgot to feed him every week or so, when Harry was lying in his cupboard-under-the-stairs bruised and battered. It had been there in the form of his mother's sacrifice and love, and in the form of Hogwarts' sorting hat and the mystical creature – Fawkes, the phoenix – when he had faced Voldemort, the man whom Harry had no idea why was after his life. With or without him knowing, magic had always been there to help Harry. And floating there, with dried tear-tracked cheeks and not an inkling of where and how he had got there, Harry stared unseeingly at the moon and let the gratitude he had for magic through. At least magic never abandoned him. Even with his cousin pushing him off into the sea, knowing Harry could not swim, and Harry being dragged away by undercurrents, falling unconscious after failing to reach the surface in time, Magic had ensured he survived. Magic had brought him here and though Harry still had not a clue as to where here was, he was content to trust the Magic that brought him here. After all, if Magic had wanted to abandon him too, it already had plenty of opportunities before. Therefore Harry simply floated, drinking in the warmth he felt Magic feeding him despite being in cold water and thanked it with his heart for being there, for accepting him. The slight pressure that surrounded him, strangely similar to a hug, was all Harry needed to know Magic heard, that Magic cared. Harry hummed in contentment.

* * *

Harry Potter awoke to find himself in the second bedroom in Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. As the remnants of sleep cleared from his mind, Harry gradually remembered the events of the previous two days.

_The Dursleys had decided to go on a week-long vacation to a beach resort to have a family outing. (Apparently, the Polkiers had gone on a three-day vacation and Petunia had not wanted to be outdone by the woman or some equally abysmal reason was the inspiration behind the spontaneous decision.) Naturally, Harry had not been invited but with no one else to look after him for five whole days – the Dursleys lies about had Harry's school had unfortunately worked too well in making the neighbourhood stay away from him and Mrs Figg had broken her leg again – they had to bring him along. Of course, Harry had to "earn his keep still" and was treated like a house-elf like always, but Harry had not minded. It was not new and certainly not as terrible as when he was back at Privet Drive where he had more chores. At least at the resort, Harry did not have to cook and clean everything. He was simply demoted as a personal luggage carrier and was even fed so as to avoid suspicions from the other visitors at the resort. Other than that the Dursleys and he had simply ignored each other. Unfortunately, this system had only gone well till late evening of the second day._

_Harry had been sitting by some rocks, waiting for nightfall so that he could discreetly return to the Dursleys when they finished whatever family-bonding activity that they had been doing. He had been so engrossed in his own thoughts that he did not notice Dudley creeping behind him until it had been too late. When he first resurfaced from the water, all he had seen was Dudley's gleeful expression and the "Gotcha freak" before the undercurrents had dragged him away and all went black a few seconds later._

Harry frowned, looking around. How did he end up back here? He did not remember being rescued, though anything could have happened while he had been unconscious. Yet, Harry found it hard to believe he was rescued by his relatives if his presence back in Privet Drive indicated as such. They would rather that he be dead. Harry was sure of it. Something niggled at the back of his mind. What had happened after he blacked out?

A sudden hoot startled Harry out of his thoughts. He turned to see Hedwig swooping through the open window to his bedroom, her white feathers a stark contrast to the dark night sky outside. Something stirred within Harry's memories. The colour strangely reminded Harry of the moonlight

Moonlight…

With a sudden jolt, memories rushed to Harry with startling clarity.

The pool, the moon, the glowing waters, the Magic, the sense of belonging he had felt – it all rushed back. A small smile lit up Harry's face at the memory.

Magic. Harry was sure it had something to do with Magic that he was back in Privet Drive. There was no other explanation. He could not have ended back here miles away from the beach resort otherwise. And if he was correct, Harry was all alone in the house since he was sure the Dursleys would not abandon their vacation to look for him. They were probably celebrating his death as of now.

Sighing Harry turned to look at the clock in his room. It was an old clock, with its glass face cracked. Broken like most of the things he owned but still working. That was enough for him.

A quarter to three in the morning.

No wonder it was still dark. He was sure he had been pushed into the water around evening the previous day and had spent the better part of the night at the moon-pool (It seemed wrong to think of the place as a mere pool. Besides Harry was certain the water only started to glow after the moon appeared and shone into the place.). Making a decision, Harry snuggled into his bed, pulling the thin blanket around him. He would ponder about how to spend his Dursley free days later in the morning when the sun was up and he was well-rested. Besides, the bed was too comfortable after sleeping on the floor at the resort (Vernon did not believe in spending money unnecessarily on Harry). He drifted off to sleep...

* * *

He should have expected it. Honestly, he was surprised that he was shocked. Twelve-year-old Harry Potter stared in silence at what used to be his legs as he sat in the tub. It was a good thing he had decided to indulge in the bathtub since the Dursleys were absent. He was not sure how it would have turned out if he had been in the shower instead. Probably would have fallen and broken his nose in less than a minute.

It had been surreal. A moment he had been basking in the warmth of the water, reminiscing at how it came close to the feel of magic at the moon-pool. Then he had been overcome by a sudden rush of power as his magic uncoiled from his core and flooded his entire being. A moment – just a moment – he had even become water. The power in him had intensified. Then he was back to human or at least partially.

He shifted his tail, feeling more than a little ridiculous. A merman. Nothing else fit. The golden-orange scaled tail that he sported waist down could mean nothing else.

Harry sighed. Really, he should not have been surprised. Things kept happening to him most of the time anyway.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Reviews are welcome, though do be polite even if you do not like an aspect of the story. **

**The updates might not be consistent but I hope you enjoy reading the story. **


	2. Leaving

**Chapter 2: Leaving**

* * *

It was a lovely afternoon in Little Whinging, Surrey. The mid-morning sun was beating down upon the rows of clone-like houses like it normally does every summer. The residents of the plain neighbourhood were going about their normal lives. Nothing was out of the ordinary in the neighbourhood and its occupants, with the exception of one household.

Within the plain walls of Number 4 Privet Drive, a raven-haired boy was pacing about restless. He had meant to enjoy a quiet day, maybe even start on his summer holiday homework. However, one thing about being Harry Potter was that things almost never went normally if you were him. And as expected, Harry's morning had turned out to be very unordinary. After all, it is not every day a little boy finds himself sporting a fishtail when he touches the water.

Harry Potter slumped onto the Dursley household's sofa, fed up with his own pointless pacing. He was in an unusual circumstance. However, Harry was by no means overly puzzled by it. Having learnt to adapt and change constantly to survive while growing up, Harry was not one to be fazed by difficult or unusual happenings in his life. As such, he was quite calm about his sudden ability to become a merman (merboy, considering his age if one were to be truly technical). Neither was Harry unclear about the situation he was in – well he still was in need of more information, truth be told, but he was not confused by any means about his current predicament. After all, being sharp and smart was another quality that little Harry had had to sharpen during his young life while learning to survive in the Dursley household. For a quick evaluation of the cold, hard facts he faced every day had been his clues while growing up, to know when to flee and hide and when to expect a few bites of food or sneak some for himself to his cupboard. There had been no point wasting time hoping, he had learned that lesson quickly from the beginning, after his first few tastes of imprisonment in his cupboard-under-the-stairs. It had been the reason why Harry had learnt to play dumb in primary school, why he knew that to tell any teacher about his true home life was only going to be more detrimental to him than the Dursleys. It was the reason why even in the Wizarding World he knew instinctively that he had to keep to himself more, that he was not to end up in Slytherin House, that he was not to reveal his best potential. For the third lesson he had learnt during his life in Privet Drive was that showing people what they expected was the safest way to avoid unwanted attention (which translated to danger in the Dursley household). Therefore, Harry Potter had been able to deduce the facts he had about his condition without the customary distraction of panic and worry anyone else may have undergone.

1\. He turned into a merboy upon contact with even a drop of water in its liquid state. (He had held onto ice successfully before the darn thing melted in his hand. He had bruised due to his falling onto the kitchen floor.) However, he could avoid the transformation if he managed to completely dry himself in less than ten seconds upon the contact.

2\. Somehow, he was better in tune with his magic. Ever since his transformation in the bathtub in the morning, Harry had been able to feel his magic within himself. He had only experienced the feeling while performing spells during school. Now, the presence of magic was a constant thrumming under his skin, in his very blood (Harry had a nagging suspicion that he may be able to perform magic without a wand. However, he was not willing to risk testing the theory when his Hogwarts ticket (that brought him his reprieve from the Dursleys) itself was at stake here if he were to get another use of underage magic notice).

3\. The entire situation was tied to the moonpool somehow. He was positive his ability was bestowed by the Magic from the moonpool. However, he had no clue as to why.

And while any normal person would worry over the lack of more information they were facing, Harry had other worries to focus upon.

He would gladly repeat over and over again that he was not worried about his newfound ability/condition. In fact, he was quite indifferent about it. With the many phases he had gone through during his twelve years of living – freak, burden, saviour, next-dark-lord-in-the making (the last one particularly irked him as it proved how easily people could turn on him) – Harry was not one to fret about identity crises any longer. And for a kid who had just recently learnt he was somehow half-fish too, Harry was doing well.

Survival, however, was a pressing issue for him. Having spent evaluating every moment in his life to adapt it a way that increased his survival chances, Harry knew instinctively that this newfound ability was both a blessing and a curse. The same instinct in him knew that it was wiser to counter the disadvantages first before seeking out the benefits when he lived in a house whose owners looked out for every opportunity to harm him.

And currently, Harry was very vulnerable. For if according to his analysis, if even a tiny drop of water turned him to a merboy, that translated to being half-fish for the better part of the day while he was at Privet Drive as his chores often included water. He had to clean every nook and cranny of the place after all. He had never used gloves before and knowing his Aunt, she would not grant him a good pair that could keep out the water even if he asked for a pair. So that left Harry with a high chance of being half fish while doing the internal house chores (The Dursleys would not let him escape his duties so easily, though they would keep him away from outside contact in fear of the neighbours seeing him in a freaky form) and that was not something Harry wanted because that meant he was even more vulnerable than he usually was. If Dudley figured it out that a little bit of water incapacitated Harry, the overgrown orca would have a field day and he did not trust Dudley to let go of an opportunity to successfully maim him or worse yet, kill him. (He was not over the near-to-death experience he had in the sea). That was if his Uncle did not kill him off first for not even remaining human.

Harry resumed his previous pacing. He had to leave. Even if by a miraculous moment, the Dursleys did not immediately pounce upon him for having new "freakish abilities" they would sooner or later learn to use his disadvantage against him. They might even successfully keep Harry away from Hogwarts this time by keeping him in his half-fish state. How could Harry escape that?

He had to leave. There was no other way. He had tolerated his stay at the Dursleys for years. Before knowing he was a wizard, it was the hope that once he went off to a different school than Dudley, he could eventually show his potential and work towards a scholarship and be free from the Dursleys. After his wizardry heritage was made known to him, Harry had tolerated coming back to appease the old but powerful Headmaster of his school when he realized the man was going to be willingly blind like the rest of the adults in the muggle world about his home life. But it had been tolerable because each time, Harry had the option and ability to run if all hell broke loose. However, this time, that option of running was in true danger of disappearing and he would rather not learn what it was like to be truly captive. Self-preservation was the golden goal that Harry worked towards all his life. Even magic would not be able to change that aspect of Harry.

Harry stopped pacing.

It was decided. He may not know where to go as of yet but he knew that when the Dursleys returned home, they would be returning to an empty house. He would not even need to explain his disappearance to them. They probably believed he was dead or had runaway (if Dudley did not reveal his act of pushing Harry into the ocean) and Harry was not going to let them believe otherwise. It gave him the perfect opportunity to slip away and if he ever got found out by Dumbledore (with the man's insistence on Harry staying with the Dursleys, Harry was sure he would eventually find out about his disappearance), the man could never fault a little boy from running away from people who knowingly tried to kill him (and this time there was no excuse, Dudley was evidently aiming to finish Harry off. Harry did not believe his cousin to be dumb enough to not realize pushing a person who did not know swimming into the sea was bad idea).

Sighing Harry Potter slid back onto the sofa. Now to figure out a plan that would get him somewhere that was safe from his relatives and any potential wizards planning on harming him.

* * *

"Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's it. You are almost there. Just cut across the street, take off your invisibility cloak near the shadowed entrance and step into Gringotts. It'll be as easy as cutting up dead flobberworms."

Harry scanned the crowd. It was relatively thin. He had stood near the exit to Diagon Alley for about ten minutes so far. Getting into the wizarding world had been easy. With his only valuable possessions being his wand and his invisibility cloak Harry did not have anything of importance to take away with him on his "Mission Runaway". Muggle money had been easy to find. Having spent years doing the Dursleys' laundry Harry knew which pockets of his Uncle's shirts to check for a few forgotten pounds or three. He also had his own little collection of dollars that he had found and stowed away during his years cleaning the Dursleys house. It had been more than enough to catch a train from Surrey to London. Afterwards, staying unseen and making his way to the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley had been smooth, especially with his invisibility cloak.

His plan had been relatively simple. He would go to Gringotts, inquire about the total money he had and whether the Goblins had any recommendation to private rentals, clear out the required money and go about finding a place to stay. He remembered he had quite a lot of money in his vault and vaguely remembered Hermione ranting about how the exchange rate of the money between wizarding and muggle currency was unfair (towards muggles that is). That meant even if Harry could not afford to live in the Wizarding World, he would be able to make it in the muggle one. Of course, there were many flaws in his plan, the foremost being his age. He knew the muggle world would make a fuss if they found out a child was living by himself. He suspected the wizards would do the same. However, if it came down to it, Harry was more than ready to flee and hide forever if he truly had no other option except going back to the Dursleys. He had given it a lot of thought since his decision to leave the day before. Had spent the whole day planning even. A major disadvantage on his end was his lack of knowledge. He was completely clueless about the ways of the wizarding world, which gave his plans a lot of loopholes. Normally, with a plan this risky and uncertain, Harry would backtrack in less than a heartbeat. However, he had been surprised by his own determination to get away from the Dursleys once and for all by deciding to go with the plan anyway. It seemed this time he had been truly pushed beyond the limit. He had woken up in a fitful state the night before, plagued by nightmares where he was drowned repeatedly, with every time he had been close to the surface, something had pulled him down even more viciously than the currents tossing him. It was hilariously ironic, considering Harry was a merboy now. Yet it explained his newfound desperation to leave.

He had understood by the age of three that he was unwanted in the Dursley household and had gotten over the sting of that realization by his fifth birthday. (Yes, he still longed to be part of a family that would accept him, that wish would forever linger in a part of his heart. However, he no longer longed to be part of the Dursley family). Despite the blunt neglect he faced however, Harry had not fully resented his relatives. He knew that he could be worse off in the streets or in an orphanage. So for all their fault of neglecting him and underfeeding him, Harry had been glad that at least they tolerated him enough to provide him with a constant shelter. That they tolerated his presence without going to drastic ways to make him miserable (He knew locking him up would be the least of his worries if the Dursleys truly wished to damn him. Yes, it was still terrible but it was not the worst an abuser could truly do. Harry always thanked his lucky stars Vernon was not a very violent/alcoholic man). It was why he had not done anything drastic as running away or purposely going out of his way to antagonize the Dursleys. He had learnt to tolerate them as long as they did the same. But what Dudley did was not tolerable. It threatened Harry's survival directly. That had not been a broken bone or bruised and bleeding leg. Harry would have very well died had he not had magic. Which meant the overgrown orca broke the most fundamental code that kept Harry in the Dursley house for so long. Besides, living with Dudley for so long, Harry knew that once he reached a certain level of tormenting Dudley never descended from it. He either kept the harassment at the same level or escalated it and Harry was not going to live in a house watching his back 24/7. His merboy status only made matter worse in the Dursley home for him.

So here he was. A few dozen steps away from the marble building that was the bank of wizarding Britain with a plan with a lot of holes and a good amount of desperation.

_"Deep breath, Harry. You have got nothing to lose and that desperate Plan B of jumping and hiding in the ocean will always be there." _

Harry pulled his invisibility cloak tighter around him and started walking. It was best to get it over with. He would have three more days to plan anything else before the Dursleys returned and he had to forever leave Privet Drive. No big loss to either parties truth be told. He was as happy to be rid of his relatives' presence as the Dursleys would be to be rid of him.

* * *

**A/N: :)**


	3. Gringotts

**Chapter 3: Gringotts**

* * *

There it was. The staring. This was the third time under ten minutes. Then again, he should not have been surprised. This was not the first time anyone had stared at Harry before. His last two years at Hogwarts alone was proof enough of that. However, this was new. He was sure nothing had changed about him whatsoever since the last time he was at the bank unless one counted his lack of glasses and healthier look. Harry himself had been surprised when he realized he was seeing fine without his glasses the day he found out he was a merboy. And his reflection had startled him into staring at himself for a good minute or so when he no longer looked unhealthily skinny and short. He had looked, to his utmost joy, like any normal child. Just average in height and on the skinnier side, though the starved look to him (that nobody usually noticed) was gone. However, the changes would have been quite subtle to anyone else. He was confident that other than say Hermione or maybe Ron, nobody would realize how much he had changed except for his lack of glasses. Even then, he doubted his two friends would realize the magnitude of his change. He doubted either of them understood how bad living with the Dursleys was to comprehend the change in his overall physique and health. They probably would not realise Harry had been literally saved from having irreversible health issues due to magic's interference.

Harry cleared his throat when he heard the guard close the door after exiting. This was too much, honestly. Granted their staring made Harry feel a little less conscious of himself since they seemed to be fascinated with him in general rather than his scar like the Wizarding populace but it was still uncomfortable. It was especially unsettling since they had never looked twice at Harry before.

"Hello, Griphook. You must be the manager of my accounts I take it."

That startled the goblin from his staring. Until he registered what Harry said. The goblin's eyes narrowed as he paused once more to scrutinize Harry. Thankfully the moment lasted less than five seconds this time.

"I see you remember me, Mister Potter. Yes, I am your finance manager," Griphook sneered, "Now take a seat quickly and we will get down to business."

Harry sighed internally. He had the gut feeling this would be a long day.

Settling down immediately, Harry cut to the point. He had a good suspicion the goblins did not appreciate wasting time on pleasantries.

"I would like to know about my financial reports please, Manager Griphook."

Harry regretted saying the words almost immediately when he was subjected to another round of staring. Only this time, Griphook looked as if he was trying to decide if Harry was purposefully being dim or not.

Harry tried not to shift under the goblin's piercing gaze. He was confident he had not asked anything stupid. After all, he had the rights to know about his account. Yet the weight of the stare of his account manager was making him doubtful.

For the second time, Harry broke the silence.

"I'm sorry Griphook, but did I ask anything wrong?"

The goblin sneered – Harry was starting to believe that was just how goblins looked and that it was not an expression purposefully put on. There was no other explanation as to how a being could sneer so much in their lifetime. Then again the goblin populace seemed to be surrounded by prejudiced humans half the time from what he had observed during his last few encounters with goblins – before answering.

"Well yes, Mister Potter. Considering Gringotts has been sending your guardian your financial reports since your sixth birthday, I am perplexed as to why you have come here asking for them when you could simply ask your guardian or reopen the letters which should be in your possession."

Harry offered the goblin a blank stare.

"I assure you Griphook my muggle relatives have not received any bank statements. They are not even aware that I own a vault with a good amount of money in it." _The money would have been long gone if the Dursleys knew about it, _Harry thought.

Griphook tilted his head slightly. "A vault you say…" A glint appeared in the goblin's eyes. "Say, Heir Potter, what do you know about your financial status? And who was it that enlightened you about it?"

"I own a vault with a very huge amount of money stored in it," Harry stated his eyes narrowing slightly at the change in address. He felt as if he was missing some important context in the conversation if the beginning of the snarl forming on Griphook's face was any indication. "I learnt about it on my first ever trip to Diagon Alley with Rubeus Hagrid who took me to my vault to collect some money for my school supplies. It was on the day of my eleventh birthday."

Griphook snarled. "Well, that certainly explains a lot of things."

Harry was curious. "What's going on Griphook?"

Griphook merely offered a smile at Harry, a very sinister smile that seemed to promise a lot of pain to someone.

"Well Mister Potter, it seems a certain somebody has been neglecting duties when it comes to you. We'll have to fix that don't we?"

Harry internally sighed once more. He hated his gut feeling for being right sometimes.

* * *

"Let's clear your misconceptions first Mister Potter, before I enlighten you properly about your ancestors," Griphook grunted.

Harry sat up straighter, his attention focused completely upon the goblin. He loved hearing about his parents but no one had told him about his grandparents or the likes before.

"Contrary to what you believe, you do not own a single vault. The vault you have been using is merely the Trust Vault set up by your mother, Lady Potter, to cover all your educational costs until the age of twenty-five."

Harry frowned at this. "I thought education at Hogwarts ended when I was done with my NEWTs in my seventh year?"

"Yes, you may end your education there if you wish. However, if I recall correctly your mother had mentioned that you would be pursuing a Masters Degree or such after Hogwarts if she had any say in the matter when she had set up the vault. While the NEWTs combination you take may make you eligible for certain jobs, having a Master Degree in a particular subject or more can open up many other opportunities for you. In some cases, certain positions also require a Masters Degree as a prerequisite such as the Head Healer role in St Mungos which requires one to be Masters in both Healing and Potions."

Harry's mind swirled. No one had told him that. And the fact that his mother seemed to have expected him to pursue higher education startled him. He knew, logically, that his parents would have had expectations for him had they been alive like getting good grades and such. However, he had not given much thought about such things since he had been more concerned about blending in and such. Now, to be told upfront that his mother had wanted him to pursue higher education made him slightly guilty at his acts of holding back in school. Yes, he had his reasons, valid ones at that, but emotions had the nasty effects of not listening to the mind. He squashed down the guilt for now. He would ponder upon it when he was alone.

"Coming back to your vaults. Had you been properly educated about your heritage, you would have known that you will also have access to the main Potter Vault or Potter Family Vault as your ancestors called it when you claim your Lordship. The wealth you have in your Trust Vault is merely a small proportion that would not even create a dent in the amount of money in the main Potter Vault. The reason for this is that your family was a family that had very successful businessmen and businesswomen and were almost always investing their money in different kinds of trades. Your grandmother Dorea Black and your mother, in particular, were geniuses when it came to investing. Would have almost given us goblins a run for our gold if they tried," Griphook mentioned nonchalantly.

Harry was torn between feeling amazed at his realisation that he was rich and his amusement at the subtle compliment the surly goblin seemed to have given his mother and grandmother.

"Another thing you must be made aware of is the status of your House as an Ancient and Noble House. The Potter family is part of a group of families that all bear the similarity of being an old-line, lasting for more than a few couples of centuries, which is why it has been given the title of Ancient and Noble House not simply Noble House as many wizarding households are called. You were eligible to claim your Lordship since your eleventh birthday as you are the last living heir to an Ancient and Noble House. Claiming of lordship traditionally happens at the age of seventeen as a wizard gains legal emancipation then and they would be granted control of all their vaults by their Head of House. However, for an orphan heir, claiming is granted from the age of eleven as it would have granted partial emancipation. Truth be told, it is entirely the same as gaining full emancipation but just that the heir would still retain his/her magical guardian, though the role of the guardian would be significantly less influential in decision makings.

The reason heirs who are orphaned are given this ability was due to the fact that in the past, guardians of orphan heirs, who were often relatives and such, exploited their position of power to obtain wealth from the heirs' inheritances. Though there are more precautions to prevent that now, the law allowing orphan heirs to claim lordship early has not been removed. However, the heir may personally choose to not claim lordship until the traditional age of seventeen too. Your fellow student, Heir Longbottom is an example of that. He has the option of partial emancipation though he had chosen to remain dependent on his Grandmother's guidance until at a later age. In your case, Gringotts was under the same belief that you had chosen to claim your inheritance at a later age, not that you were left ignorant about it by your guardian."

The surly goblin seemed to sigh at Harry's blank stare, recognising it to be Harry's expression of complete and utter disbelief. Harry himself was not sure what to think. So many possibilities were opening up to him with all this newfound knowledge. Yet, he was puzzled about this guardian of his. He knew know Griphook was not referring to his muggle relatives. They did not have a lick of magic within them to be magical guardians. Griphook seemed to sense his line of thoughts.

"Your guardian Mister Potter is another matter we must discuss about. It seems you are also not aware of the fact that you have a magical guardian which is a requirement for all muggle-born and muggle-raised children to have especially since they do not have a magical relative to represent them. The role of the magical guardian is to look out and guide the magical child in the ways of the Magical World. For Hogwarts students, it often tends to be their Head of Houses that fill out those roles. For an heir like you, guidance would involve teaching you about your status and finances so that when you gained lordship you would be ready to handle them. Therefore you were required to have a guardian since birth. Upon your parents' deaths, the guardian you were assigned to or rather who assigned himself," Griphook sneered, "was Albus Dumbledore."

Harry stilled.

_"Well that went downhill very fast" his inner voice murmured._

* * *

Harry stared at the cup of tea in front of him. Griphook had told him that his "pitiful mind lacked the mental stamina to continue without a break" and had promptly ordered refreshments to be brought for him to have. Then the goblin had gone on to deal with some paperwork as he ignored Harry's silent contemplations. Harry was touched. Despite the rude and mean attitude, it was obvious the goblin seemed to have at least some modicum of care about his well-being.

His thoughts drifted to his current circumstances.

Saying he was at a loss was an understatement. He had more than enough money to run off and live by himself. From his questions to the sarcastic goblin, he apparently had quite a few properties that nobody except the Potter family knew about. Even magical guardians could not know about certain properties as the knowledge was strictly kept among close family members alone. (So unless Dumbledore was his direct relative in any way, Harry was sure there would be at least one property he could find that the old wizard was unaware about.) According to the goblin, Harry would naturally know the information once he claimed the Lordship ring. The properties were also likely to have family wards and other such protections according to Griphook. The surly goblin had also hinted that Gringotts was capable of adding or strengthening wards with utmost confidentiality as long as they were paid. This covered any security issues Harry had about his plan. But what was currently nagging him was that the trip to Gringotts had revealed how alarmingly ignorant Harry was about many things about the wizarding world.

Which directed his thoughts to his magical guardian. Albus Dumbledore. Harry could not believe it. The man had always had the kind, grandfatherly aura despite his intimidating authority. And Harry would admit he had been respectful of the old Headmaster before his current knowledge. Even when he had been denied living elsewhere other than at the Dursleys, Harry had not felt any resentment or such towards the Headmaster, just a slight disappointment. After all, Dumbledore was not the first-ever adult in Harry's life to be willingly ignorant about his home life. He had a whole neighbourhood of such adults in Privet Drive and that was excluding his muggle school teachers. Even the Weasleys – bless their kind hearts for accepting him but – they too never accepted the truth about his home life when their own sons had rescued Harry and had ranted about the bars on his room. However, now he was more than annoyed with the old wizard.

Magical Guardian.

Guardian!

Honestly. He was the man's ward and the man did not even mention such things to him. His role made the fact that he brushed aside Harry's desire to live elsewhere from the Dursleys all the more frustrating. As far as Harry knew, he had not even bothered to investigate why Harry did not want to leave deeply and that was something Harry was not going to forget. Living with the Dursleys had made Harry quite resentful towards bullies and guardians who mistreated wards. The Headmaster, despite all his heroic deeds, was now in Harry's "Avoid-and-do-not-trust" list. He may have succeeded in being a hero but failed spectacularly at his job as a guardian. Sure there was some protection in living with his blood relatives but Harry was sure the man could have done more to at least try to make the Dursleys civil in their behaviour towards Harry if he had bothered to check on Harry that is.

Harry sighed.

His best decision was to claim his lordship and partial emancipation. It would leave Harry free from the Dursleys' guardianship and leave Dumbledore as merely an advisor for him. He, of course, could change the guardianship to another individual (Griphook had mentioned it) but the only adults Harry trusted even a bit were the Weasleys and though Harry liked them a lot, he was certain he could not live under the overbearing personality of Mrs Weasley. Harry could understand the need for her way of doing things though. He doubted that looking after seven kids was easy for Mrs Weasley, especially when the family had little finances. He could admire her firmness in that aspect. However, for someone like him who was used to his independence, Harry was sure having the Weasley matriarch as his guardian would be a recipe for disaster.

Harry sipped his tea. His immediate worries of shelter and security were mostly assured. While he still did not like Dumbledore having any sort of control in his life outside of his role as a Headmaster, Harry was not going to waste time wishing for alternatives. Now what he needed was to rectify his lack of knowledge regarding the magical world.

His gaze shifted to the goblin expertly ignoring him.

Griphook was currently his best option to gain knowledge. While he was uncomfortable with the idea of seeking help, his instinct was not against trusting the goblin so far and Harry was not one to doubt his instinct when it had saved him so far in life. Besides, he doubted the goblin would have any reason to object helping him out.

_"It's worth a shot. You could also ask him advice when it comes to wizarding education come to think of it. He seems to be the most non-biased influence you've had so far," _ _his inner voice advised. _

Harry sighed internally for the third time as he realised how his simple trip had become way more complicated. At least things seemed to be heading for the better. And if they remained that way, he could start looking at the root of what triggered all this decision to move and hide – his merboy transformation.

* * *

**A/N: ****=^._.^= ∫**


	4. Home

**Chapter Four: Home**

* * *

Liberated.

There was no other word to truly describe how he felt other than liberated. He was surrounded by blue, the deepest kind of blue, the kind that stirred something within one's soul. It was the kind that reminded beings how small they truly were, how insignificant when compared to the vast blue that ran deep into the ground, that covered almost everything on the Earth.

Yet, he felt safe. He felt powerful. For as long as he was forever encompassed within the arms of this never-ending blue, he was certain he could never be harmed ever again.

With a silent laugh, he rushed upwards, breaking out of the surface of the ocean and tilted backwards, his speed propelling him into a backwards flip. His scales caught the last rays of light from the dying sun, showing off different hues of orange-gold (with the occasional flecks of emerald shining through) before he crashed back into the deep sea.

Home. This was what it felt like, Harry had no doubt. He had chased for a sense of belonging all his life. But there had always been a dark doubt, a shadow of some sort – be it his childhood identity as a freak, his celebrity status as a Savior or the fact that he was at the end of the day an orphan – that lingered about during those futile chases, reminding him he was the odd one out. That he did not fully fit into the puzzle. However, here in the water, there were no such demons haunting him.

He was a part of this vast blue now. He knew it without a doubt because he could feel the magic that made the ocean itself singing to his very soul as he swam about the sea, unrestricted.

Harry Potter gave out a content sigh, giggling silently as he saw water bubbles escape his mouth in a flurry at the action. He floated to the top, letting himself drift horizontally on the ocean surface, the water acting like a malleable bed of some sorts.

Night had fallen. Though there was no moon, the billions of constellations that dotted the sky had their own kind of magic going on as far as Harry was concerned. He stared at the endless sky. He had seen it so many times before under the enchanted ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall and through the old telescopes in Professor Sinistra's Astronomy lesson. Yet seeing it now, without magical lenses or bewitching spells in the way, Harry appreciated the beauty of the endless sky for what it was.

Putting his hand in front of him, Harry cast a silent Tempus, smiling at the feel of his magic pooling at the tip of his fingertips with an ease he had not had before.

_Half-past ten._

Well, that still left plenty of time to enjoy the night before he had to make his way back to his new home. Besides, there was no one there to lock him out of _his_ home anymore.

With a tiny hum of happiness that was lost in the night air, the twelve-year-old boy floated there for hours, isolated yet content, unaware of the one lone tear that had escaped his eye when he had been overwhelmed in his joy of being free.

_Home_. Now that he had found it, he was not going to go anywhere else.

* * *

Miles away, on a castle located on the Scottish Highlands, a curious silver instrument in the Headmaster's office room sputtered and stopped as the blood wards it was meant to monitor fell for good.

* * *

One of the things Severus Snape hated about Albus Dumbledore (other than the man's ludicrous sense of fashion that often tended to leave others blind) was the fact that the man was an early riser. This was particularly because it meant that the old man was likely to find a pressing issue earlier rather than later due to early rising. That, in turn, translated to him – Severus Tobias Snape, youngest Potion Master of the century, an employee of said Albus Dumbledore – being bothered at either a crucial moment of potion-making or peaceful sleep, on the crack of dawn. Currently, it was the former that had transpired. He had almost succeeded to mix the Moonbeam petals with the Ashwinder concoction when Albus' dratted Patronus had had the gall to disturb him. He was sure the man could not ruin a Potion Master's morning any more than that.

Muttering dark promises under his breath, Severus made his way past the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office and entered the cheerful office, barely refraining a scowl.

"Albus, you had better have a good reason for this," Severus growled, greeting the disgruntled presence of his fellow colleague with a curt nod of his head. Minerva McGonagall returned the gesture, too tired to be speaking.

"I'm afraid I have troubling news."

The unusual worry lacing his old mentor's tone had Severus' attention sharpening upon the old Headmaster, even while his face betrayed no expression. He noticed Minevera sitting straighter from the corner of his eyes.

"The blood wards around Privet Drive fell last night. The instrument monitoring the wards is not functioning anymore."

Well, would someone look at that! _That_ ruined his morning even more.

* * *

Severus Snape had to hand it to the bane of his existence. The boy truly had a talent in making his life miserable, even when he was far, far away from the brat.

They had found out from a sleep-ridden Arabella Figg, a few hours ago, that the boy's relatives were due to return from their vacation sometime in the morning. From the old squib's recount, they had taken the boy with them on the trip.

"As if they wouldn't," Severus thought, "how could they spoil the brat if he didn't come along?"

Since there had been no attacks on the house and the brat was clearly alive and well according to Albus' strange silver instrument, the most likely conclusion they had made from the facts was that the boy had likely run away from his relatives. What they could not figure out, or rather what Minerva and Albus could not figure out, was why. Severus was meanwhile convinced this was simply another act of the boy to get attention. Or maybe a petty action due to his relatives probably denying the brat something during the vacation. They had been prepared to track down the Dursleys when Arabella had flooed in to inform that the Dursleys had returned with no Harry Potter. That had commenced a change of plans for the three to make their way down to Privet Drive, Surrey to speak to the Dursleys in person and discuss the matter of their missing nephew.

Looking back, Severus figured that should have been his first clue to something amiss. For truly if he had thought about it, no loving family that pampered its kid would return from a vacation on time, with no signs of distress over said pampered kid. However, the first sign that Severus picked up on which alerted him to something being off had been the living room of the Dursleys after Albus, Minerva and he himself had been invited (read forcefully entered) into the Dursley house.

The living room was decorated with many pictures of the Dursley family but none of them contained the picture of an emerald-eyed boy he knew of. In fact had he not known that the brat was meant to live there, Severus was quite sure he would have believed there was only one child in house Number Four, Privet Drive. From the way her lips had pursed into a thin line, Severus was certain Minerva had picked up the detail too.

The second sign had come in the form of Vernon Dursley – a whale of a man whose purpling countenance at the mere sight of three magicals in his house set off the alarm bells within Snape's mind. But it could not be true. Severus refused to believe it. Albus had promised that the brat had lived comfortably (not pampered as Severus insisted to believe but comfortably in a loving home) even with Petunia as the Aunt.

The third and most telling sign had been when the rather round offspring of Vernon and Petunia had come bounding down the stairs, yelling at the top of his lungs, unaware that there were other people within the house.

"MUM! Can I get my second bedroom back, now that the freak is gone? I could just leave the rest of the freak's stuff back in his cupboard right?!"

For a moment there had been silence. The Dursley couple had turned white as a sheet. Albus had suddenly looked every bit his hundred and fifty years. Minerva had gone unnaturally still.

And Severus – Severus lost his calm for the first time in a decade.

* * *

Griphook paused from his paperwork as the Floo to his personal office flared up. There was only one human whom he had allowed entry into his office.

"Lord Potter."

"Good morning Griphook. I'm ready for my scheduled lessons."

Griphook gave a curt nod in reply, gesturing for the boy to take a seat.

"Yes, but there is a slight change to the schedule."

Harry sat up straighter. That was unexpected.

"Really? Have you finally taken pity on me and decided to grant me reprieve from the hellish learning routine you have subjected me to for the past one month?" Harry jested, giving a pointed look to the clock hanging on the wall that read half-past four.

"If this is hellish you wizards truly are pathetic. And it has been only three weeks," was the reply sneered back at Harry.

Harry simply snickered. He had learnt to see past the short goblin's surly nature long ago.

"Going on to important matters. I believe you are aware of the fact that the notice of the change in guardianship would by now have reached Albus Dumbledore." Harry tensed slightly. "I would give it until this afternoon before he would be here at Gringotts, demanding to see the goblin-in-charge of the Potter account, which would be me, and possibly even you if he guesses that we are in contact with you."

"But he does not know who the new guardian is. Nor that I have claimed more than just the Potter Lordship."

Griphook spared Harry a brief look of approval.

"Good to see you are letting the lessons stick in your head, wizard-child. And yes you would be correct in your statements. He would not know about either matter unless you reveal it to him, which I am assuming you will not seeing as you had worked yourself to a panicking mess the last time while trying to think up ways to get out of Dumbledore's influence."

Harry blushed, his face turning into a nice shade of red. He had not meant to lose his head but the events of the first few days coupled with the revelations on his heritage and the new need to keep his freedom away from the clutches of another supposed "guardian" had caught up to Harry at the end of the first meeting with Griphook. The goblin had gotten a very curious look when he had accidentally revealed (during his unexpected moment of hysteria) that he was running away from his relatives but had thankfully not tried to pry the information out of him. Instead, he had sent for a goblin Healer – Jadeclaw – for a calming draught when it had become obvious Harry was not calming down.

"Between you and me, let's never bring that up again."

"I will think about that."

Harry groaned. He was never going to be off the hook for this. He had a good feeling the evil little goblin would use his one moment of embarrassment against him for the rest of his life. Of all the times he had to have his very first panic attack, he had to do it in front of a witness.

Griphook simply smirked.

"Back to the matter at hand. What do you intend to do when Dumbledore arrives?"

Harry paused. He knew he could never hide from the man forever. He was his Headmaster after all. But if he had to speak about such matters, he would rather it be done in Gringotts territory. He – alarmingly enough – did trust the goblins to heed to his wishes more than the wizards he knew even if it was simply due to the fact that most of the goblins worked with the attitude to be professional despite their annoyance at the wizarding race.

"It would be foolish to avoid the Headmaster. I think I would rather prefer to confront him earlier rather than let him drag it out during my school days. Yet I'd prefer it if you could schedule the meeting to be held at Gringotts," Harry replied to the goblin, "Make it at his most inconvenient time if you can."

Griphook sneered. "That goes without saying."

Harry laughed. He was enjoying working with the goblins way too much.

* * *

Harry stared, fascinated, at the ice cube on the floor which was starting to melt slowly.

_"Had he just? It couldn't be. But – "_

He looked at his hands, recalling what had happened moments before. With a calculating look, Harry turned his attention back to the glass in front of him that had no more water left in it.

It had been an accident, him tipping the glass. He had reacted out of instinct to catch the water (it was a stupid move now that he thought about it…one does not catch water ever). However, interestingly enough the water had stilled its downward movement, suspended mid-air. But it had not simply stayed still. It had grown twice in volume at Harry's action. That had startled Harry so much he had retracted his hands back to his chest, clenching them in the process which had let the water fall down again but triggered another reaction. The water had started boiling.

From a sleep-ridden twelve-year-old point of view (in Harry's defence) that had apparently made him think the water was angry at him, his sleepy self not realising he was the one manipulating the water. So Harry had done the best he could in that moment of confusion. He lifted his arms in surrender, palm facing outward. That had, again, another interesting result. The water – or what was left of the water – had cooled down and frozen into a cube of ice the size of a Rubik's cube.

And that was simply so bizarre, Harry lost any sense of sleep that had clung to him.

With a curious glance at his hand, Harry brought it towards the jug of water beside the glass. He let his palm face the jug, fingers spread apart and willed the water to move upwards. Now that he was awake, he sensed his magic tingle gleefully, a sensation quite different from the hum of magic he was used to when he cast spells. And then the water in the jug started rising upwards. It kept rising, growing to a volume that Harry knew the jug simply could not have contained. With a smile, he willed the excess water to separate from the (now full to the brim) jug of water and spread itself on to the kitchen counter in the shape of a rectangle cube. Holding it in place, he swiftly changed his hand gesture by bring his fingers together and straightening his slightly cupped palm. His magic tingled again and the water froze forming an ice block. With a wider grin, Harry wiggled his hand, staring at it in amazement for a minute or two before turning back to the ice cube. He held out his hand and started to slowly curl his fingers inwards, bringing them into a clenched state. Another tingle ran through his being before the cube started melting, then boiling and finally evaporating to air.

Harry laughed. Magic was simply wonderful.

His laughter was interrupted by the sound of tapping. Turning about, Harry walked over to his living room, heading straight over to the windows.

Hedwig swooped in and landed on his shoulders, nipping his ear before stretching out her left foot to show him the Gringotts letter attached to her claws.

"Clever girl. You always know when to get my letters, don't you?" Harry rubbed her head fondly. Hedwig hooted gently before taking off out the window again.

Harry glanced at the letter in his hands, wondering what Griphook had to inform him.

_Dear Lord Potter,_

_The meeting with Albus Dumbledore is scheduled for tomorrow morning at half-past four. Your lessons would be shifted back. _

_I would advise you to wear a robe with your family crest upon it for your attire tomorrow. That is etiquette as far as wizarding customs go._

_Your account manager,_

_Griphook of Gringotts_

Harry folded the letter back into its envelope.

_"Well, tomorrow would be interesting," his inner voice commented._

He glanced out the open window. It was dark but he could still make out the silhouettes of the trees surrounding his new home. And if he strained his ears, he could even hear the waves crashing at the shore from the distance.

Harry smiled. Whatever happened tomorrow, he knew he would never have to go back to the Dursleys. Nobody had the authority to make him go back anymore. Not even his new magical guardian.

He had found his home and he was staying in it for good.

His smile grew wider.

_Oh, how sweet freedom tastes._

* * *

**A/N: My exams are starting soon ****(・・；)**

**I'll probably be updating quite a while later.**


	5. Trust

Harry Potter floated on the still sea, staring at the stars above. It had become a habit of his, he realized absently, to brood while surrounded by the security of the water. He would miss it if he went back to Hogwarts.

_"I knew you had been not living the most comfortable life and were not as happy as you deserved to be. I knew you were under chores and such, my boy but I had thought you were only put under small discomforts like those. And I admit, I had thought such small discomforts were a small price to pay for the safety that the blood wards offered you."_

For a bizarre reason, it had hurt Harry slightly during the meeting to hear it. It had nothing to do with his Headmaster's admittance. It had more to do with the fact that the admittance had come from a man who was meant to be his magical _guardian. _It stung that all the guardians in his life seemed to not believe Harry deserved happiness and comfort, even if one of them had meant to look out for him. It stung because he had been reminded that he still had no one who would be selfish _for him_ and would put his needs before everything else like he had seen so many parents do for their kids.

Was it so wrong of him to desperately wish that someone would truly care about him?

_"You are being ridiculous." His inner voice reminded._

Harry knew that. Years of surviving had taught him that such foolish wishing was more likely to get him killed sooner rather than later. But sometimes, it was tiring to keep the part of him that longed for care and attention locked away.

What was the price of such small discomforts for safety?

Harry could think of many things.

Days and nights spent hungry and bruised inside a dark room crawling with spiders. Tending a concussion (by himself) that had left him with blurred vision for years. Dressing in the same clothes that were baggy and torn that did nothing to help him survive winter days. Fighting a high fever in his cupboard while being alone and scared as a six-year-old.

Harry stopped thinking.

He had lost much faith in adults by the age of five when even his school teachers had proven to believe his relatives' lies over the truths in front of their eyes.

He had lost faith all over again in the meeting when all Dumbledore offered for his failures were unsatisfactory excuses.

A guardian, from what he had seen from the interactions between families that cared for each other, was someone who put their ward's wellbeing before anything else. Not just the ward's safety alone but the ward's happiness and health too. They were meant to be an active presence in the child's life.

The Headmaster had failed where it had mattered.

It was too high a price in Harry's opinion. The days he had spent hungry, injured and lonely were too high a price for safety he had never felt he had. So what if magicals could not hurt him? Magic was not necessary to hurt, to harm. The Dursleys were living proof of that.

_"Your mother had left a powerful protection over you. I had hoped to prolong it. To keep that protection of love going, so that you will remain protected even if you encountered Voldemort again."_

Again. Such a high price. To endure hate to preserve the love that had once been showered upon him, love that he did not remember. He may not know his mother, but he could hazard a guess that she had not died to ensure he survived to live a life where he was hated and neglected.

_"I had thought it would be best to not appear to you to lessen their discomfort. They were already adjusting so much to take you in and I had thought it would be the least I could do to ensure I give them space. I had not wanted to intrude and cause an adverse reaction that could have resulted in a rift between your relatives and you. In retrospect, I should have not done that."_

It had been this answer that had truly started to make Harry mad. While before, he could make excuses for the old wizard that the man was forced to take the best option he knew of for Harry's safety, that answer had shattered the little hope he had that the Headmaster could be redeemed to him.

The man had cared more about not aggravating the Dursleys than Harry's wellbeing. It was unforgivable, especially when considering the man knew the Dursleys were not comfortable with magic.

_"But I had employed means to keep track of your safety and security, my boy. I may have done it from shadows but I had not completely left you unmonitored."_

He kept proving himself to be incapable, that old Headmaster.

How would Arabella Figg be a good substitute to watch over his ward? How would the woman realize what went on inside the Dursleys household?

The only time the old squib could observe him was when he was out in the yard doing chores or walking past her house for school or the grocery store. Those instances were too little to report accurately on a child. Especially in a neighbourhood where people did not question why a little boy was dressed in rags when his guardians were not struggling financially.

Too many mistakes. To simply put it, the Headmaster had done too many mistakes regarding his guardianship that Harry could not simply overlook. Sure his intentions were good but the ever overused but truthful fact remained that the road to hell was paved with good intentions.

No amount of apology or genuine remorse from the old man was going to earn him forgiveness from Harry on the matter of guardianship. The old man only had his guilt to live with. Harry had to live with the loss of twelve years and the constant thoughts of "what-ifs?"

Besides, Harry was even warier when he thought about the Headmaster's actions in Hogwarts the past two years. The man had obviously guided him and his friends to the Philosopher's stone in his first year. Harry was sure of it. The returning oh his family cloak, the appearance when he had been entranced by the mirror of Erised and the traps three first years could get past. The last one particularly bugged Harry. The past few weeks he had gone through his Hogwarts curriculum from the first year to halfway through his upcoming third year. He had realized that most of the traps he had encountered in his first year could have been overcome by almost anyone, especially if they knew about Fluffy's weakness. If Dumbledore had truly meant to protect that stone, Harry was sure he could have done better, considering all the masteries and achievements the man had done in his life. And the second year in Hogwarts was equally puzzling. Almost the whole school had turned on him and the man and his staff had done nothing to stop it even when they were aware that Harry was innocent. Adding to that was the fact that despite having so many grown witches and wizards who were meant to be smart, no one had thought about the beast lurking about in Hogwarts being a Basilisk. Honestly, if Hermione could figure it out, why could the teachers not? They had years of experience in the magical world compared to Hermione.

Confusing. That was all he could think of when he thought of the Headmaster's actions. He had definitely not done anything to look out for Harry during his Hogwarts years and these facts just brought down Harry's faith in the Headmaster. In fact, the man had either facilitated Harry going off to face danger (first year) or stood by and watched him be in danger (second year).

He could not believe in the Headmaster's well intentions anymore after realizing that.

_"I had hoped Headmaster, that when I heard the excuses – and they are excuses make no mistake – they would at least be satisfactory excuses. What you are telling me are such pathetic excuses with so many loopholes I cannot even understand why there had been a time I had respected you as a person."_

Harry still could not believe he had respected the man once. That he had believed him to be the all-knowing, friendly grandfatherly Headmaster like most of the school. The illusion had eroded slowly over the two years but in that one meeting, it had all but shattered.

He could deduct that the Headmaster would do it again if he thought it was "best for Harry's safety". He had even asked it outright.

_There had been a few minutes of silence. Dumbledore had seemed caught off by the question but he gave it thought. A pained expression flittered across his face. _

_"Yes, Harry. I would. Perhaps with more measures to ensure your safety within the house and its inhabitants but I am ashamed to admit that I would."_

_"And that is why, Headmaster, you are no longer my guardian. You obviously do not know what truly matters."_

The meeting had ended then. Harry had refused to continue with the man. He had refused to divulge any information on either his current whereabouts or his current magical guardian. The Headmaster had no rights to it as far as he was concerned.

_"My proper title is Lord Potter, Headmaster Dumbledore. Please use that or Mister Potter to address me from here onwards. I believe we've made it clear that you do not have the proper authority or relation to claim familiarity with me through your answers in this meeting."_

His last words to the Headmaster brought a smile to his face. The man's pained expression had brought a vindictive pleasure to Harry.

It had been worth it, he supposed. It had been worth opening a few old wounds and scars to get that meeting over with.

He may have been subdued during the rest of the day. It may have taken him a while to get over the sting he had thought he would never feel again.

But it had been relieving in the end. He doubted he would have to worry much about Dumbledore anymore, at least in guardianship matters.

His freedom was guaranteed. Albus Dumbledore, the Dursleys and no one else was in a position to cage him for their own beliefs on what was good for him.

And that was more than enough for him.

* * *

Harry stared ahead of him, pale-faced. This was bringing him unwanted flashbacks.

He briefly glanced at the ground. He was still on the path. That meant that he was within the warded area. It meant the harmful ones would keep well away from him and his home.

_"Then pray tell what a TROLL is doing in the MIDDLE of your path?!" his inner voice screamed. _

Harry was sure it was a troll. It resembled the ghastly beast he had come across in his first year too much, with a few exceptions. Firstly it was only seven feet tall rather than twelve. It had skin the colour of lush spring leaves and thick earthy brown hair that ran to its shoulders. It was also dressed in a smock made out of autumn leaves if Harry's eyes were not deceiving him. And it had no deadly club but that did not mean the golden-brown spear it held in one hand gave Harry any sense of comfort.

For all appearances, however, it appeared to be a lesser intimidating version of the last troll Harry had encountered, but he was not willing to take the chance.

Perhaps he should simply make his way back to the ocean. The troll seemed preoccupied already, what with its bizarre hopping about in the middle of Harry's path back home. Its growling was also causing Harry a headache, despite the basic Occlumency barriers he had from his Lordship rings. He had even put up the poor shields he had managed to create from his last few attempts with the goblins' lessons at the defensive mind arts but they were not helpful one bit. Every growl the creature made seemed to pound its way into Harry's skull for some reason. But it had yet to notice him from how far away Harry was standing.

Harry started inching backwards slowly. The ocean would not be too far off.

He had almost successfully made it around the bend, losing most of the view of the troll when he heard it give a soul-wrenching howl and whatever pounding through his Occlumency shields broke through.

A cacophony of sounds entered Harry's mind. Thankfully most of it seemed muted and shoved to the back of his mind – except for one.

_Hurts. Hurts. HURTS!_

Harry halted in sheer surprise. He looked around. There was no one else around him. Unless one counted the hidden forest animals and the troll.

_Hurts!_

Harry jumped, looking about for the seemingly disembodied gravelly voice.

This was starting to frighten him, a little. He was sure he was alone. Nobody could enter the area without his permission, except for the animals – magical or non-magical – that already lived within the forest. The last time he had encountered disembodied spirits, it had been a Dark Lord bent on killing him.

_Hurtss Mamjll. Hurtssss!_

Harry was sure there was a hint of a whine there, mingled between the obvious pain lacing the voice.

He was going insane, that was it. He was clearly hallucinating. Perhaps swimming for hours in saltwater had not been a bright idea, despite the fact that he was adapted for it.

_Hurtsss. Mamjll sad..Hurtsss!_

He could not help it anymore. Strange or not, the voice was clearly distressed. Besides, if he was truly losing it, then Harry might as well answer the voice. Why hold back if his mind was already well on the path to insanity.

_"I'm sorry but what hurts?"_

He had been expecting a reply but the image of a pale green arm covered in length by a three-inch-long thorny and thick twig answered his question all the same. Harry winced in sympathy for the being before his mind registered the colour of its skin. And the brief flash of autumn leaves he had glimpsed in the image sent to his head.

Harry paled further as the realisation that he was speaking mentally to a troll sunk in.

_"Oh Merlin!"_

* * *

Harry stared at the troll about five feet away from him. It had quit thrashing about for five minutes now. He guessed it was tired if the quiet sniffles that made its way into his mind were any indication. But Harry knew it was still in pain. _He could feel it._

Harry shuddered slightly. It had yet to notice him. The troll was so immersed in its pain that Harry had yet to be discovered.

_"You could still just walk away. You are not obliged to help. I repeat. NOT OBLIGED TO HELP" his inner voice screamed. _

Harry could understand his own desperation. He was throwing every self-preservation instinct out of the window. But he could not leave the creature to its misery. Not when he could _feel _its pain. Besides, the scenario brought forth all the bruises and cuts he had often nursed himself under his relatives' care. He had always hoped for someone to help him then…

"Yeah, I have obviously lost it," Harry thought as he realised he was one foot away from the troll.

He obviously had a death wish.

Taking in a deep breath and shoving his instincts aside, Harry reached out to the troll – mentally, of course.

_"Hello?"_

_Hurts. (sniffles)_

The troll obviously had not heard him.

_"I could help you…"_

No response. "Perhaps an image would work?" Harry thought.

Closing his eyes, Harry thought of the image of the troll's injured hand healing slowing and sent the image through the weak link he found and recognised as his means to connect with the troll and waited. A moment later, he knew it worked as the troll stopped its sniffles.

_Help?_

_"Yes. Help." _ Harry sent an image of the troll's back. _"Behind you."_

The next thing he knew, the troll was facing him, crouching down halfway to be eye-level with his small self. It stared at Harry, as though surprised at his small stature. A sense of curiosity washed over Harry from the link, along with the pain. Harry had a feeling it had never met a human before. He hoped it was not curious about how a human would taste.

_"It's not too late to run away?" his inner voice whispered weakly._ Harry shoved it aside.

_Help? _ A pale green injured hand extended in front of Harry's hand. Startled by the easy trust the creature displayed, it took Harry a moment to realised that the arm of the troll was almost thrice his arm's size.

"Funny that. It looked smaller in the mind-image," Harry thought, a slight tinge of hysteria creeping into his mind.

_"Help. I will help."_ Harry desperately hoped the creature could not sense his fear. He vaguely remembered predators being able to sense such things in prey. He fingered his Lordship rings. Even a small move that seemed threatening and he would vanish in a moment to one of his safe-houses.

A wave of pain filled him again. Harry sighed, looking at the troll that was gazing at him expectantly with large trusting eyes. Or perhaps he would still stay.

"Really, though," Harry thought, "For an intimidating creature, it looks like a sad puppy right now." Harry could see its tear tracked face and quivering lips from where he was standing eye-to-eye with the crouching creature. It made for a pitying yet slightly, _slightly _adorable picture.

_"We'll see how pitying it looks like when you get killed by it," his inner voice muttered sarcastically._

He sent an image of the golden-brown spear lying on the forest floor to the troll. Hoping the creature would understand the message, Harry sent his own uneasiness at the sight of the weapon to the creature. He would really prefer dealing with the troll without the added threat of a weapon looming over his head.

The troll seemed to stare at him again. Harry was almost reminded of Griphook's piercing stare which the goblin often used to determine whether Harry was truly dim-witted or simply ignorant. He still got indignant at that sometimes despite knowing it was the goblin's way of riling him.

A movement startled him out of his thoughts. Harry saw the spear lying beside the troll. He stared at it for a moment, surprised once again at how easily the troll trusted to put away a weapon in front of a total stranger.

Taking a deep breath, Harry took the hand still extended in front of him slowly.

_"Might hurt."_

_No hurt?_

_"No, this might hurt."_

_Hurts. No hurt?_

Harry winced internally. It seemed he would not get this message across well. He thanked whatever deities that existed for at least letting the troll part with its weapon.

He could already see it, him being squashed by the troll when it reacted to the pain of the thorns being pulled out of its hand. He cursed his bad luck for not having any numbing potion or such.

_"You could have run away. Now you are going to die for being stupid." His inner voice murmured._

Harry scowled internally. Stupid self-preservation instincts.

Preparing for flight and bracing his ears and mind for the assault of loud howls of pain, Harry grabbed onto the thick thorny twig that was almost fully embedded into the troll's thick skin and yanked it with all his might.

The thorns came right off and as he suspected, the troll let out a howl of pain. What Harry was not prepared for was seeing the blue liquid trailing down the arm of the troll. And with the waves of pain washing across him from the troll and his own panic at realising the troll was bleeding, Harry did the only thing that came to his mind. He grabbed at his magic and threw it out at the arm of the troll, desperately wishing the creature would heal.

A flash of white encompassed the troll's arms and the next thing both the troll and Harry knew was that the pain stopped and in the place of the troll's once bleeding arm was a scar-less, pale green arm.

The troll blinked at its arm. Harry could only mimic it, lost in his own shock.

_"Why are you shocked? You threw your magic at it." _Harry ignored his logical inner voice again.

A beat of silence later, Harry was washed in feelings of happiness and gratefulness. A small smile graced his lips at the feelings.

He watched as the troll picked up its spear and stood at his full height. It looked down upon Harry and seemed to wonder at him again. Harry watched, not knowing what else do.

After a long silence, Harry decided it would be best to leave. Though he was pretty sure the troll did not feel it, it was becoming rather awkward for him to be standing so long in silence.

_"Um... I'll be leaving then."_ Harry hoped the troll understood the words. _"Bye-bye?!"_

He really needed to be more eloquent but he doubted the troll would understand him that way.

He was starting to inch around the creature when it moved. This time, it got down on a knee and swiftly bowed, spear held at its side, forehead almost touching the forest floor. Then it stood up and sent a last wave of gratitude before disappearing into the trees.

Harry stared at the spot the troll had stood in, bewildered by its actions. This was certainly different from the last time he had encountered a troll.

_"Well, at least the path is clear now…" his inner voice whispered._

Harry blinked.

It would be a while before he started heading for home.

* * *

Griphook of Gringotts was a very angry goblin. He was angry for a lot of reasons but currently, he focused upon the green-eyed Lord Potter who was causing him to worry instead. The wizard child had all but run off after his meeting with Albus Dumbledore. Not that Griphook blamed him much after everything he heard from the meeting. He could understand the child's need for privacy but the boy could have at least told him he was leaving before storming off to where nobody, not even the goblins, could find him since they required his express permission to even enter Lord Potter's new home, wherever it was.

Griphook was sure the twelve-year-old was going to be the death of him.

The one who had most of the goblin's ire, however, was the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was beyond furious for the old Headmaster's failings at his guardian duties. It seemed that disregarding his charge's heritage was the least of the old man's mistakes. He had disregarded the child itself in his naïve beliefs in familial love if what Griphook gleaned from the meeting was correct.

Griphook glanced at the clock hanging in his office.

_Five minutes to half-past four._

The child should have been here by now. He had always arrived at least half an hour earlier, bent on disturbing his account manager with questions or just his mere loud presence. Griphook had learnt to tolerate it. It was one of the few times he had seen his client act his actual age, which was concerning in itself.

The Floo flared and the subject of his thoughts entered his office. Griphook pierced said subject with his harshest glare.

"Good morning, Griphook?" The attempt was weak. Griphook could see it in the boy's face that he knew he had failed at his effort to lighten the atmosphere.

"We need to talk, Lord Potter." If Griphook's voice was steelier than ever, the boy did not mention it. The soon to be thirteen years old seemed to sigh and seated himself, resigned to his fate.

"I'm sorry for my abrupt departure, yesterday. I got overwhelmed by my anger and had to get away."

Griphook nodded. He had guessed that much.

"You are not going to let me go till your queries are satisfied, are you?"

"That would be accurate, Lord Potter."

"I don't really want to discuss it, Griphook."

"I can understand the need for privacy for many things, Lord Potter but some circumstances require involvement no matter how much a person wishes privacy. And as much as I am aware you are too mature for your age, you are still a young one and in certain matters need help. You can protest as much as you want but I want to know about this matter. If you refuse to tell me, Gringotts will start an investigation."

Griphook watched the child in front of him sighed. He knew the boy knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

"I've never talked about it in detail to anyone Griphook. Nobody listened before. I am used to keeping it to myself."

Griphook softened internally. "I assumed as much from your responses during the meeting." The goblin sighed. "I can understand if it is hard for you and that your trust is limited, especially after all the neglect you seemed to have suffered. But I promise you, this will not travel between anyone other than you and Gringotts."

The child remained silent. Griphook could see the conflict in his eyes. "I am willing to swear an oath on my life and magic if it would make you more comfortable, Lord Potter."

The boy's head snapped up at the declaration. "NO!"

Griphook raised an eyebrow at the response. That had been unexpected.

The child flushed, embarrassed.

"It is not a matter of trust, Griphook. Alarmingly enough, I trust you and the goblins of Gringotts the most right now in my life." With his gaze boring into the table, Griphook was sure the child missed how both his eyebrows were raised. "While you goblins keep your professionalism at all times, you have shown me subtle gestures of care and concern. And unlike most others I've encountered before, I can tell the gestures are genuine. I appreciate that a lot. Not many people have looked out for me without expecting anything in return. So I don't need the oath to tell me your trustworthiness in the matter. It is just difficult to share about such matters. I've never trusted enough to even consider mentioning it to people like I am doing with you. It is making me feel frighteningly vulnerable."

Griphook had to admit he was flattered by the wizard child's faith. He was sure if he were to share it with the others, their appreciation of the wizard child would only grow. Little Lord Potter truly had no idea how well the goblins of Gringotts liked him. The goblins too were capable of recognising genuine actions and the child had nothing but genuine respect and politeness for them since they had gotten to know him this summer. It was rare to find humans like him nowadays amongst the bigoted Wizarding World. Even if the majority of witches and wizards did not believe in blood supremacy, they had an unconscious belief of being a superior magical race which showed in their interaction with magical creatures, be the creatures intelligent or not. It was a reason why the goblins only tolerated the majority of their witch and wizard clients. The goblins only respected those who proved worthy of respect.

"I, Griphook of Gringotts, do hereby swear on my magic and life to guard the secrets of one Harrison James Potter and to never reveal them without the express permission from him. I further swear that if any other goblin is to be let in on the secret with Lord Harrison James Potter's express permission, they would be subject to swearing the same oath of secrecy."

A golden glow surrounded Griphook, under the astonished eyes of twelve-year-old Harry Potter.

"I am truly honoured you believe so much in Gringotts, Lord Potter. And while I am glad you believe in us so, it is still essential for us to show you that we are truly willing to help you out. And we will do our best to make you safe."

The little wizard's posture relaxed slightly.

"Thank you. It had truly not been necessary but it means a lot that you take my worries seriously."

The boy took a deep breath, as though steeling himself for the worst. "What do you want to know Griphook?"

"Perhaps you could start with that cupboard-under-the-stairs, Lord Potter."

* * *

**A/N: I haven't mentioned it but thank you for the reviews so far. It is nice to know people enjoy reading the story.**

**This is really irrelevant to the story at this point in time but just for my curiosity, are yall expecting any particular character to be paired up with Harry? (Female or Male I don't mind but I am curious.) I just thought about how it might be a potential possibility for Harry in the future and have my own few ships but I'd like to know what yall think.**


	6. Memories and Moonspells

_He watched as she rushed about the crib, hair flying and actions frantic as she muttered a chant under her breath._

_A thud was heard from downstairs. She stifled a sob._

_Conjuring a needle wandlessly, she pricked her finger, letting a drop fall upon the rowan crib. Invisible runes surrounding it in a three-metre wide circle lit up briefly before fading back into the surrounding. She banished the needle and healed her finger._

_Footsteps could be heard making their way up the stairs. Tears streamed down her face._

_"I love you, Harry. I love you so very much, my little clumsy bear. Remember that, alright?" She placed a kiss onto the forehead of the emerald-eyed child sitting before her. "Forgive me for leaving you so early, love." Another sob was stifled._

_She turned to face the door that provided the only entrance to the room. The door that was blocked by a few haphazardly arranged furniture. _

_The footsteps stopped._

_The door blasted open, furniture shredded to bits by the force of the hex aimed at them. A monstrous man stepped in, right arm wielding a wand that was starting to glow with a green light at the tip._

_The wrongness in the man overwhelmed him even though he could not see the man fully with her blocking his view. There was a sense of nothingness, an absence of intelligence that even the beastliest of beasts possessed in him._

_"Step aside girl and I will spare you."_

_"No, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl!"_

_"Please! Not Harry! Take me instead! Take me instead!"_

_"So be it then." A pale arm rose. "Avada Kedavra!"_

_She dropped, dead._

Harry Potter fell out of his sofa, displacing the Occlumency book that had been on his lap.

Dazed and overwhelmed by what he uncovered from deep within his mind, the little child remained upon the cold marble floor of his room.

_She had…Oh, goddess…she had…_

He felt something wet slide down his cheek. He glanced at his legs that had yet to morph into a tail, wondering if he was hallucinating the feeling. He touched his cheeks. His fingers came back moist.

Crying. He was _crying_. His brain registered the fact numbly. He'd never cried since he had been seven-years-old.

His thoughts returned to the memory he had recollected.

He had seen his mother. His _mother._ Albeit in her dying moments but still. And she had said she loved him. _Him._

Harry curled up on the floor, thoughts conflicted.

He had hated his parents once, while he had been under the Dursleys' roof. It had been during the time when he had still been naïve enough to believe the lies he had been fed. The hate had not been as much as the hate he had had for the Dursleys – nothing could surpass his hate for his childhood abusers, honestly – but it had been strong enough for him to resent the thought of his parents mildly.

It was around his fifth birthday that he had let go of that hate.

His fifth birthday was a turning point of sorts in his life if Harry were to be truthful. That had been when he had wizened up and finally accepted the Dursleys were never going to like him, much less love him as he had often hoped. (The trigger for this had been them locking him up in his cupboard for two weeks straight if he remembered right). And with that useless hope gone, Harry had been able to see that everything the Dursleys told him was to always be taken with not just a pinch but a whole bucket of salt. It had been then that it occurred to him that perhaps his parents were not entirely as bad as the Dursleys had always painted them to be – if they had been bad at all. With that realization, he had come to the conclusion that there was no point in him holding a pointless grudge against people he had no knowledge about. He had not even known their names then due to his cruel relatives. What good would it have done him to continue hating faceless, nameless people at all?

That had been the first time he started dreaming up scenarios containing his parents. The dreams would often include them being alive, well and being the kindest people the world had ever seen. And it would _always_ include him being loved and cared for by his parents. Those moments had been the highlights of the dreams, after all.

Then the wizarding world and the truth had come out on his eleventh birthday.

His resentment for the Dursleys reached new heights. But his liking for his parents grew.

The months following that had given him more reasons to like them.

From simple words like "He had been a natural at Transfiguration while she had taken to Charms like a duck to water" to "He was loyal to those he loved and she was a fierce protector of what she believed in" Harry learned bits and pieces about the parents he had long forgotten within his memories. He had taken in all those tiny tidbits greedily. The teachers and staff may have just been reminiscing but those had been more than simple descriptions to Harry who had, before then, never had anything to base his parents' personality before.

The want to know more had been like a raw hunger. Gnawing at him, as though seeking retribution for all the years he had unrightfully hated his dead parents. He had longed to know everything about the parents that he had been lied to about, that he had once given up liking due to his relatives' lies.

Harry curled his legs towards himself and hugged his knees to his chest as the thoughts within his head overwhelmed him.

_Begged...she…for him…because….just because_

The Mirror of Erised had been when he had first started loving his parents.

Perhaps it had been because that was the first time he saw them in his explicit memory. But he had finally had faces to attach to his parents' for the very first time. His father had been like seeing an older version of himself but his mother, his mother had been beautiful. Red hair, emerald eyes and a lovely smile directed at just him. Despite being an illusion she had seemed so real, so full of love. Harry had never had someone look at him that lovingly before, as though they would give their very life and soul for him.

_"And she had given you exactly that," his inner voice said._

A choked noise disrupted the silence within his living room. It took Harry a moment to realize it came from him.

_She_ had died for _him._ Begged to take his place to spare his life. Because _she_ _loved_ _him_.

It had been one thing to have heard it from those he had met. But to have finally remembered her and her actions was another thing entirely.

Another sob left his lips.

All those years he had spent wondering if anybody would care to love him and his mother had _died_ protecting him without him remembering. All those years spent hoping yet hating on the two people who had probably loved him more than anybody else in the world.

The little boy curled up on the marble floor of his home, letting his tears fall silently as his mind replayed the memory he had uncovered over and over.

"I'm sorry I hated you once mother." A sob wracked through him. "I love you too."

His whispered confession was lost to the night.

* * *

Harry swatted his arm blindly at whatever it was that was poking him, refusing to relinquish his hold on sleep completely. A sense of annoyance that was not his washed over him. He opened his eyes blearily. White feathers filled his vision.

"Hedwig," Harry mumbled.

_Wake up, Harry. It is the special day your humans celebrate. Your thirteenth year in life._

Harry blinked, before comprehending the soft words that had whispered across his mind. He bolted upright, causing Hedwig to fly off from where she had been perched on his chest with an indignant hoot.

"_It's my birthday?"_ He looked up at the clock perched on his mantelpiece. The time showed that it was five minutes past midnight. Harry turned back to stare at his companion. She was now perched upon a pile of presents that she had obviously disposed upon his living room's sofa. Two more owls were seated beside her with one of them slumped against the sofa tiredly. _"So that's why you disappeared for so long! You went to collect my presents."_

Hedwig puffed her feathers, looking pleased. Grinning, Harry reached out to rub her affectionately before turning his attention to his two other guests. He recognized the Weasley family's owl to be the one that was slumped over. "Errol," Harry thought to himself, "That was what Ron had said his name was once."

Hurrying over to his kitchen and carefully filling a saucer with water – he had rather not sprout a tail just then – Harry brought it over to the old owl. Errol opened a bleary eye and gave a feeble hoot before gulping down the water that was offered. Harry gently rubbed the old owl's back as he waited for him to finish.

_"Would you like to stay with Hedwig and me for a few days, Errol? You need to rest."_

The owl seemed hardly surprised at Harry's ability to communicate with him. Harry figured Hedwig must have warned him about it.

_Yes, please. Thank you human._ A feeble hoot in thanks was given.

_"Call me Harry, Errol. Just follow Hedwig to her perch once you feel up to flight."_

Harry turned to the last owl, taking in the letter with a Hogwarts crest and messily wrapped package attached to its talons. He detached the deliveries from the owl, passing it a treat he had snuck from the kitchen while getting water for Errol. _"Thank you, brother of air."_ Harry called out silently. The tawny owl gave a nod before taking off through the open window.

Harry turned back to the two owls still perched upon his sofa. He handed his Hedwig a treat and silently asked them to head off to rest, thanking them once more for delivering his post. Hedwig left swiftly with a pleased hoot and an affectionate nip at Harry's fingers after devouring her treat. A tired Errol followed after at a more sedate pace.

Once he was alone, Harry turned back to his post. He could open them then and there itself.

His gaze drifted to the Occlumency book laying a few paces away from him. Memories of his last attempt rushed back again.

Harry sighed. He would leave the presents for a later time. He was not in a mood to celebrate yet despite being touched at his Hedwig's efforts to ensure he finally had decent gifts on the day of his birthday and his own friends' thoughtfulness in spending time and effort to send him gifts.

His eyes rested on the Hogwarts letter resting atop the pile. That was another matter to be settled. He had yet to decide if he would return to Hogwarts this year. He wanted to but…

Sighing softly once more Harry Potter trudged up to the second floor of his home, intent on heading for his bed and falling back asleep. He would deal with his emotions, school matter and birthday later when he was more rested.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall looked up from the letters she was organising for the new muggle-borns as a snowy white owl flew and landed on her office desk. A snowy white owl that she was well aware belonged to one of her trouble attracting lion cubs.

She took the letter it carried in its beak, offering a polite "thank you". The owl in question gave a short bob with its head before flying off to sit on her windowsill to wait.

"So he wants a reply soon," she thought. She glanced back at the letter in her hand.

Albus had yet to tell her what happened in the meeting that occurred six days back. He had found over a dozen excuses to avoid both Severus and herself which were indicative enough that the man had messed up once again with Harry Potter.

Minerva sighed. She was frankly not ready to face whatever was within the letter despite being the Head of House of Gryffindor. If Albus had blundered it was likely he revealed that both Severus and herself were there when they finally discovered about the boy's childhood abuse. That probably would not have settled well with the lad, especially considering his childhood and Severus and her failures at looking out for him.

An impatient hoot startled Minerva out of her thoughts. She turned to look at the snowy owl only to be met with an unimpressed expression from said owl.

"Well, might as well get this over with," she thought.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_Due to certain medical reasons, I will be unable to continue my education at Hogwarts. However, I am reluctant to stop my schooling at Hogwarts just yet and my Healer has informed me that if certain arrangements can be made, I will be allowed to continue. Therefore I would like to meet with you to discuss the matter._

_I will be free to meet you anytime from the 2nd of August at a time of your convenience. But to safeguard my privacy, the venue for the meeting will be Gringotts. Please do note that you would also be required to take an oath if necessary._

_I look forward to your reply._

_Sincerely,_

_Lord Harry James Potter_

_PS: I would appreciate it if the Headmaster is not alerted to this matter until after our meeting. He does not have my confidence and I am not willing to discuss my personal matters with him. I am aware that as Deputy Headmistress you have authority to take his stead when he cannot be involved._

Minerva placed the letter away, hands pale and shaking.

This did not bode well.

* * *

Harry paused outside the neon green shop, face shrouded by shadows under his cloak's hood. Unlike the rest of the shops dotting the alley, this was by far the least threatening in appearance. Painted in dark green were the words "This & That" on a gold-coloured sign hanging off the top of the entrance. Intrigued by the display of a sofa hanging off the ceiling through the window, the thirteen-year-old decided to take a peek in.

"It should be fine," he thought with a quick glance at his new watch. "I still have four hours before I must report back to Jadeclaw for round two of allergy testing." Harry shuddered at the thought of returning back for the session. Sitting in a room, sniffing, touching and nibbling at various matters to test if he had developed any new allergies due to his transformation was not how he had planned on spending his day. The goblins, however, were too thirsty when it came to knowledge and refused to let him escape. Not that Harry minded much. It was just the boredom that got onto his nerves.

A bell tingled, signalling his entrance into the shop. Once inside, Harry understood the meaning of its name immediately. While he had originally believed the shop to have been a furniture shop, it was actually a shop of random items that certainly had no relation to each other. From the oak tree growing in the middle of the shop to the wardrobe that was … sauntering about the cluttered shop, the shop seemed to house anything and everything.

Whoever owned the shop certainly had no beliefs in organisation.

"Welcome."

Harry turned to the source of the soft-spoken voice. An old lady sat atop the countertop situated at the right corner of the shop, sipping lightly from a black mug. For an old woman, she had quite the quirky vibe. She was dressed in emerald robes made of silk and was wearing a pair of black dragonhide boots. Her left wrist was decorated with mismatched bead bracelets, along with plenty of other random charms. Her hair, however, was truly the most eye-catching feature. While it was silvery grey, indicating her old age, the bottom was dyed a deep aquamarine blue that reminded Harry of the ocean near his home on a clear sunny day. A small clip in the shape of a shell pinned her fringe away.

"This and that," Harry thought, "She's literally decorated with this and that as though she simply grabbed items closest to her while getting ready."

Harry grinned under his hood. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this shopping trip. He glanced around the shop again, taking note of the curious items lying about all around the room from ceiling to wall to floor. Perhaps some of these would help to add a personal touch to his home. He certainly was not partial to having tea from the ceiling. And the plants at the far left also intrigued him. While he had disliked having to tend the Dursleys' garden, it had never been the chore that had made him unhappy. More the people he was doing it for. But now that he had his own home, perhaps he could own his own garden or even a greenhouse.

_"You live in the middle of a forest. Why ever would you need more greenery?" his inner voice mumbled._

Harry ignored it. He was a free person and it was his birthday. He could indulge in some spontaneous wishes.

"Are you looking for anything particular, lad?"

Harry turned back to the old woman who was looking at him with a polite smile. She had settled her mug down and was sitting crossed leg on her countertop.

Harry blinked.

She seemed too youthful in her actions that her wizened appearance threw him off whenever he looked at her.

"Not really, Ma'am. Just looking for now." He glanced around the room again and watched perplexed as three gold umbrellas at a corner started fighting. Harry was certain he could hear mild curse words from where he stood. He turned back to the old lady. "But I'd certainly appreciate it if you could tell me about your unique products. I'm afraid I've never seen anything like them."

The old woman's smile widened. "Why certainly lad. And please, call me Lyria young man."

The next thing Harry knew was him being dragged off to the corner with the fighting umbrellas. Watching one of them belch fire at its companions as they approached, Harry grinned under his hood again.

This was going to be a very fun shopping trip indeed.

* * *

Harry stepped into Diagon Alley, slightly surprised to find it almost empty. Checking the time, he read that it was four minutes to eight-thirty. He had less than five minutes to get to Jadeclaw. The boy cursed mentally. Thanking his lucky start the bank was two minutes away from where he stood – he supposed he could make it in one minute if he had to run for it – the messy-haired boy started to brisk walk to his destination. Perhaps he got too carried away with Lyria's odd little shop.

"But who wouldn't? The shop was filled with wonders," Harry thought as he thought back to the goods he had purchased that ranged from fire-belching umbrellas to mismatched shoes that could help the wearer defy gravity. Perhaps half of them were not useful on a normal day but Harry was certain it would liven up his new home. It did get rather lonely now and then despite the peacefulness Harry got.

Besides, some of the good were too useful to pass up. Like the black leather trunk he had immediately purchased after hearing its description. Four library sections (with two already filled with thousands of interesting books from light to grey to dark magic), a potion lab (empty but that was easily solved), a style-it-yourself study where the magic he did with his wand would not be detected by the ministry (apparently being partially emancipated was not a good reason to allow a person to do magic outside of school), a forest section for pets to live in and also the normal section to keep clothes. The trunk's security feature of opening at Harry's blood was too good to pass up. The ministry had long banned such features on the regular trunks sold at Diagon Alley but they were sadly the most secure of safety measures.

It had cost him a fortune but it had been worth it.

He patted his leg, absently feeling his purchases that were shrunk and placed in the pocket of the jeans he wore under his cloak. It had been a really worthwhile trip indeed.

_"And Jadeclaw will find it worthwhile to use your tail in is healing potions. Get a move on. The goblins do not appreciate tardiness and it is disrespectful for you to meet them late after all the help they have done."_

Chastised by his own conscious, Harry took off at a run towards his destination. Three paces away from the entrance of the bank, he checked his watch again. A minute and a half. He had a minute and a half left. He could still make it on time. Jadeclaw's office was at the first floor, fortunately.

Slowing down to a walk and waving at the guards – Agrak and Eglig, his mind supplied – Harry let loose a slimmer of his magic to tidy himself up. His grin widened as he saw the guards notice his arrival and scowl. Antagonising them had become a tradition for him. Not as frequent as he annoyed Griphook but Agrak and Eglig were particularly creative in their verbal threats and Harry found it highly entertaining.

"Missed me you two?" He asked cheekily as he approached them, waiting to hear what new insult they had come up with while he had gone away on his shopping spree.

He saw Eglig opening his mouth to grunt out a response when it happened. A cloud shifted in the dark sky above. Harry stopped, one step away from the bank's entrance, as he was suddenly under moonlight.

He turned his back towards the goblin guards. He heard two gruff voices calling his name but Harry paid them no mind.

His attention was focused upon one thing and one thing alone.

_"The moon looks beautiful," his inner voice murmured, a trance-like quality having entered its tone._

Harry agreed wholeheartedly. Shining against the dark sky, the full moon seemed to have an otherworldly feel to it.

"Just like when I was at the moon pool, last month," Harry thought.

The memory of the moon pool came crashing back to the forefront of Harry's mind. As he reminisced the feel of the water and magic caressing him, a strange longing grew within him.

Perhaps he should head for a swim?

Harry looked about him at the empty alley. He wondered if there was a lake nearby.

He felt a pull behind him and the sensation of water rippling filled his senses. The image of a lake filled his mind.

Into Gringotts it was then.

Harry turned back around and walked past the goblins guards who were frowning at him. He heard neither goblins' calls as he entered the empty bank.

All he heard was the water's call.

* * *

Agrak burst into the office of the Head Healer, sinking into a low bow to greet his elder. Unlike other times where he would wait for his elder's permission before rising for the bow, the stocky goblin stood up immediately, hand over heart to convey he meant no disrespect.

"Lord Potter needs help, Healer Jadeclaw."

* * *

A sense of dread overwhelmed Griphook as he followed the magical signatures of his colleague and his client.

They had headed deep into a part of Gringotts no one from the Wizarding populace was allowed to enter. In fact, no one of non-goblin race and blood was ever allowed to enter this area as part of strict goblin customs. If Harrison had entered the area this was likely going to cause for a chaotic situation. No matter how much the Goblin nation had come to tolerate and even like the presence of the young wizard, there were some boundaries the goblins could not vanish. He hoped Jadeclaw or Harison had a good explanation for what was going on.

Griphook halted as the next bend came about and he saw neither hide nor tail of either of his quarries. They had already travelled quite deep underground. Too deep. It would be unwise of him to not inform his King now. If he found out through other means it was likely Jadeclaw, Harrison and he would face their King's infamous wrath.

"Guardian Eglig."

The goblin who had been silently following him stood straight. "Yes, sir?"

"Lockdown the bank and inform his majesty that we may have a situation at hand. But make it clear that there is likely no actual harm intended. Until we find Jadeclaw or Lord Potter, we cannot be sure that the young child had intentionally meant to cross the boundaries of our nation's privacy."

"He did not, Master Griphook." Griphook raised an eyebrow at the usually quiet goblin's input. "He fell into a trance from what Guardian Agrak and I witnessed as the moonlight hit his skin. Since then he had been unresponsive to our calls be it verbal or mental."

Griphook resisted the urge to swear. Of course. The full moon! How could both he and Jadeclaw have forgotten? And Harrison was newly changed too. Oh this was a mess.

"You are aware of Lord Potters new ability?"

The stocky goblin nodded. "I have given my oath of secrecy to him as have Guardian Agrak ever since Healer Jadeclaw informed us of it."

"Good. When you alert his Majesty, inform him of what you witnessed and that this is likely a case of moon spell of some sort, considering the circumstances. He too is aware of the Potter child's change."

"As the elder wishes." Eglig bowed and left abruptly.

Griphook turned his focus back to his mission. He really had to get to Harrison soon, hopefully before he reaches where he is not allowed to enter.

"Earth bless us with luck, I hope the night does not bring blood."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, once again! Your responses for the pairings have been fun to read. Certainly gave me ideas for when Harry gets older. Just to clear up some misconceptions but I will sadly not be including characters from H2O: Just Add Water into this fanfic. Maybe in another fic but this fic only the mermaid concept is borrowed from the H2O series. Really sorry if I disappoint anybody.**

**Anyways, I hope yall enjoy this new chapter :)**

**PS: I have a feeling my chapters are going to end up nameless, somewhere along the way. For some reason thinking of a chapter title is way more difficult than writing the chapter. **


	7. The Goblin Nation - Part I

He halted at the edge of the lake, staring at its still, dark surface. The moon shone brightly above the night sky, looking as ethereal as always. His magic hummed under his skin, alive and wild. His heart raced, excited.

If Harry had been more aware, he would have questioned how he was able to get to a lake and a cave filled terrain when he had travelled down, deep into tunnels. But he was not aware and as such he did not take notice.

He would be home soon. The water was calling him and he would obey its command. That was all that mattered.

He dived in.

* * *

Griphook rushed to his colleague, his entire being filled with dread.

"I presume you've already figured out our mistake?"

The paler goblin did not even twitch at his presence. "Yes. Moon spell. Could have beheaded myself for my foolishness."

Griphook glanced at the lake his colleague was staring upon. He could make an educated guess at where exactly his client was.

"Has Harrison come up to the surface yet?"

"No. He's been there for at least seven minutes, counting from the moment I saw him dive as I arrived at the entrance."

Griphook glanced up, sharply. "You were not able to stop him?"

Jadeclaw glanced up grimly. "No. I'm not even sure he heard me call his name and he has not been up. I've felt him brush close to the perimeter wards but never cross past any..."

Jadeclaw paused.

"Not yet at least."

Griphook paled at the revelation. He took a glance at the cave filled terrain around him, illuminated in the dark by the star-filled night sky. Most of the caves had pools that connected to the lake. Harrison could access any one of them easily since he already managed to get pass ancient wards and into the homes of the goblin nation.

"His Majesty is going to have our heads."

"I have yet to decide on that Master Griphook, though I will admit the chances are high."

Griphook stilled at the gruff and low voice. Turning to face the owner, he met his King – his very furious King if the vicious snarl on his face was any indication.

* * *

"Are you certain that there is no way to get him out as of yet?"

"We could send divers in, Your Highness but whether they will get him back successfully is questionable. There are too many unknown factors. The speed at which Lord Potter will be able to swim, whether he would welcome their presence considering he is not fully himself and whether he is willing to come out in the first place. Besides that none of our people often swim at this time. The lake is pitch black to our eyes and to swim deep for a long time while sustaining a light source would be taxing on their magic," Jadeclaw replied.

Griphook watched the conversation silently, glancing at the surface of the water every other minute. His King was furious, as he had every right to be, but thankfully he was not unreasonable. Yet, Griphook could not help but worry. How the King would explain this to the people would have a significant impact on how Harrison would be treated further on by the nation. And at the end of the day, Harrison's wizarding status would always be a negative point with the people despite how much they liked him. Some bridges needed an eternity before they could be rebuilt well – if they could be rebuilt at all.

Griphook sighed. He should have taken up weapon crafting when he had the chance. Would have saved him the trouble of being involved in this situation.

"Your Highness, I hope this question brings you no offence. I mean not to question your decisions or such but I'd like to enquire what will you be doing about Lord Potter?"

His King looked him in the eye. Griphook tried not to flinch away from the sharp gaze. King Kargus of Gringotts was feared for his sword in all the magical land for a reason.

"You care for the human, Master Griphook." It was not a question.

"Yes, I do my King."

"Why?"

"You know as well as every other goblin, my King, that we do not accept anyone outside our clan even if Magic herself vouches for them. Ever since I have got to know of Lord Potter, I've come to see that he is but a young one despite his behaviour. A young one who despite his somewhat mature and independent self needs people who wish him well in his life.

He has sought help with our nation and given us his trust when he had not done so to any being else, not even his own. He has taken the risk to trust us when he has never been given a reason to trust anyone in his young life. As someone whom he has entrusted that trust with, I cannot let him be punished for something that had been beyond his control. I believe that would be against my honour."

His King was silent.

"I will stand by Griphook in this, my King," Jadeclaw added, "I too have found it that the young one worthy of a goblin's trust. While he is no warrior, the child is honourable and honest, especially now that he has been allowed to take control of his own life. He, unlike the rest of his kind, is not tainted with prejudice."

"I am surprised it took you two this long to speak up."

Griphook shared a puzzled look with Jadeclaw.

"I am aware of Lord Potter's story since he stepped into Gringotts this summer. Even I was alerted by the wards despite not being in the premises. And I have made my elites monitor his behaviour towards our nation ever since."

Griphook nodded. He had expected that from the King ever since the wards had – for a lack of a better description – sung at the young child's entry into Gringotts at the start of summer. It also explained why the King had not gotten involved even after they had gone out of the goblins' nature to help one from the wizarding world.

"Of course I will not be condemning a young one unjustly but we cannot have any loopholes in our defences when it comes to this matter. I will talk with Lord Potter before any decisions are made, fret not. And judging from what I have heard from the nation itself, I doubt the conversation would be problematic. The child seems capable enough of understanding us and our ways. And even if he does not, he has the sense to respect other beings' private matters."

Griphook nodded once more, giving a short bow. "Thank you, my King."

King Kargus gave him a nod. "Now, any ideas on how to get the young Lord back?"

Griphook and Jadeclaw shook their heads.

King Kargus sighed. "Well then, I will proceed to inform the nation of the situation. It would be better to have them prepared in case he enters the caves."

* * *

Deep underwater a little merboy swam about exploring the freshwater lake he was in, unaware of the chaos he was causing with his absence above water.

He laughed as he watched a pale water demon swim away from him, muttering about unfairly powerful predators.

"Silly creature," he thought, "It should not have tried to attack something stronger than him."

Harry swam on deeper into the water, a logical part of his mind wondering how he was able to see things so clearly within the dark lake. But he discarded the thought as the warmth in his chest distracted him. He was home right now; it would be silly of him to think such insignificant thoughts.

The lake was wonderful, filled with so many peculiar creatures and species Harry had not seen around in the ocean. He mused if this was due to the lake being freshwater.

"Maybe Griphook would know about it," Harry thought. "I should go find him."

But the boy was distracted from his train of thoughts as he passed by yet another glowing symbol that was beside an underground tunnel filled with water. He felt the magic within the symbol protecting something just like it had with the other glowing symbols he had passed by. The boy paused his swimming, staring at the symbol.

He was curious. Very curious. He had not thought much of the tunnels at first since he wanted to explore the majority of the lake. But he had swum around for quite some time and now he wanted something new to explore. And he was so very curious about these various symbols.

Giving in to his curiosity the little merboy swam forwards, entering the tunnel and feeling the protective magic wash over him as it let him enter.

He meant no harm after all and he was a part of the water. The magic saw no harm.

Harry swam eagerly onwards, excited to discover new things. "Perhaps I'll find something to gift Griphook and Jadeclaw for their help so long," he thought absently.

* * *

Settled within one of the caves, a goblette paused in her work as she felt her wards sing. The song was similar to that she heard a couple of hours ago.

Her memory replayed the words of her mate.

_"It seems the wards let him enter freely. It reinforces him being one of Magic's. While that is reassuring, we have yet to know how Lord Potter behaves with his creature nature being in complete control. Be alert, love. And if by a slim chance of fate you do see him please try to get him on land. It would make it so much easier to help him when we can actually be near him."_

The goblette turned to face the pool located at the back of her home, sensing something – or someone – approaching. She lifted her hand, letting her magic dance behind her fingertips, ready to be called in a moment's notice, just in case. It was better to be safer despite what she had been told about the human child's nature.

The water rippled. A mop of jet black hair that showed hints of red emerged from the water, followed by a pair of shy emerald eyes of a young human. She watched as the eyes took in the cave as the boy rose out of the water till the water was at his chest and noted the pure curiosity in his eyes.

She let her hand fall. There was no ill intent from the little one in front of her.

Her movement, however, caught the merboy's attention. Finally realising he was not alone, the boy gave a little squeak and froze on the spot in surprise. The water surrounding him faintly bubbled, conveying his distress.

She approached him slowly keeping her movements minimal so as to seem unthreatening. Reaching the edge of the pool, she knelt down on her knees carefully, trying to bring herself as close to eye level with the little boy who had gone back to submerging himself all the way into the water except for his eyes and forehead.

"Hello there, youngling," she started gently.

The water started calming down as the boy rose out of the water a little, the curiosity in his eyes piquing.

"I am Queen Akigla of Gringotts. Would you like to come out and explore?"

* * *

**A/N: And here you go folks. Hope you enjoy this chapter **(＾▽＾)

**To address something I think someone seems to find an issue with, I prefer Harry's scales being more golden-orange like in H20; Just add water rather than the blue in Mako Mermaids. Sorry for any hardcore fans out there but this is partly my taste. Furthermore, Harry is a wizard who got mer abilities. He is not a human who got the ability and neither was he born a merperson. As such, I think that this may result in him having a unique tail. Hence the golden-orange with emerald flecks. Yall can expect his tail to have more colours as the story progresses. But don't worry, I won't turn his tail into something horribly coloured and garish to see... it'd be more of flecks of colours here and there due to certain factors...**

**As for that part about Harry talking about his abuse to someone...Why do I get the feeling the person did not reach chapter 5? Well, can't do anything about that.**

**All that aside, if anyone does not like the fanfiction, please, just don't read it, sweeties. I'm not by any means forcing yall to read my fanfiction. Sadly I do not know such compulsion magic...not that I'd use it if I knew, that would be utterly wrong. **

**Anyways, for those of you still reading and enjoying the story, thanks for your support! I hope this chapter brings you happiness! And countdown the days for a certain mangy grim of the Wizarding World to start showing up soon... **V●ᴥ●V

**Feeling: Excited **(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**Alright, alright, I'll stop with the Japanese emojis...for now... **

**Byeee folks!**


	8. The Goblin Nation - Part II

_His limbs screamed. His eyes drooped. His consciousness wavered. _

_But he kept on, shaking himself awake and battling the cold waves. His muddled thoughts did little to his disorientation. Still, he was determined to get away._

_He **had to** get away. _

_He failed them once. He would not do it again. Even if he had to die this time round._

_He pushed forward once more, hope reigniting within him as he gained sight of the shore ahead. _

_He **would** get away._

_And this time round he would succeed in what he failed before. _

_"He's at Hogwarts." _

_The thought repeated in his head like a mantra as he crawled onto the dry, cracked shore. Shaking his drenched fur, he took a moment to catch his breath. He wanted to howl his joy despite the hunger gnawing at his gut and the sheer exhaustion in his body._

_He had gotten away! _

_Now to find his pup before he went after that traitorous rat…_

* * *

Harry yawned as he woke from the best sleep he had had in a while. He opened his eyes and came face to face with a goblin he had come to know and like over the past month.

"Good morning, Griphook," he greeted, his sleep clouded mind not yet registering the unusual situation he woke up in, "Did you sleep well? I had the best sleep ever in –"

Harry blinked, registering the cave-like surrounding behind Griphook for the first time.

"No, not cave," he thought as he looked around to spot an opening above him that allowed sunlight to stream in onto the beautiful pool that stirred something within his memories. "I'm in a volcanic crater of some sort."

His first time at the moon pool returned to the forefront of his mind. "I'm at the moon pool's crater!" he realised.

Harry turned back to his account manager, finally noticing the other four goblins also in the crater with him but he was too disorientated to acknowledge them yet.

"Um – Griphook, what am I doing here?" The snarl forming on the goblin's face coupled with the deadpan expressions of the other goblins made Harry feel strangely guilty, as though he had done something wrong.

_"Which you very well might have," __his inner voice supplied cheerfully as he slowly became more alert,__ "You can't seem to remember anything from the night before."_

Harry hid a wince at the truth in the statement. Now that he was more awake, the first thing he realised was that he could not remember much on how and why he was where he currently was.

He looked at the five goblins still giving him the unimpressed look.

"I take it something happened?" he asked sheepishly, hoping he did not do anything stupid.

* * *

"So, you are telling me," Harry started, seated comfortably on the edge of the moon pool, "That I went loopy when I saw the full moon, somehow managed to find the goblin nation's homes that were warded from intruders for centuries with highly protective magic just to get to the water, thwarted the wards again and went inside the cave of the goblin Queen herself, couldn't be transformed back into my human self despite being dried, refused to cooperate to come with you and about an hour from midnight dove back into the water to swim miles away to come here to the moon pool instead because I claimed 'the water called'?"

Griphook, who was seated opposite to him nodded.

"How did you find me then?"

"Our Queen was sharp enough to place a tracking charm upon you when she realised we were not going to convince you to follow us back to Jadeclaw's office."

"Oh."

Harry fell silent afterwards, contemplating. It was slightly disconcerting that he could not remember any of this. And he felt bad at having caused the goblins so much trouble. They had to close down their bank, for Merlin's sake!

"I'm sorry, Griphook."

The goblin raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For all the trouble I caused your nation last night," Harry answered sheepishly.

Griphook sneered at him. "You should be fish. I missed hours' worth of paperwork, thanks to you."

Harry grinned guiltily before asking the question that was burning him.

"But why can't I remember anything from before?"

Jadeclaw, who had abandoned checking the walls of the crater, answered him instead of Griphook.

"It has been noted in other creatures that are affected by certain factors, such as the moon, to temporarily forget these kinds of incidents. There are no definitive answers but only theories as to why since creature heritage and abilities are not researched much due to bigoted beliefs on them being dark or unimportant lesser beings. One such theory is that since the person fully gives up control to their creature side in compensation to having control for the rest of the month, only the creature side remembers the incidents and not the human side. But there are some who do not believe in this theory entirely and state that while the creature side remembers, it is possible for the human to remember as well if they dig deep enough – or in other words, use Occlumency to remember. The reason for this is that some believe that the creature side, no matter how different, is still ultimately a part of the person with creature abilities and as such would share the same core and mind of the person who has inherited the creature ability. But the second theory still does not explain why people forget such incidents." Jadeclaw paused.

Harry blinked at the informative, almost-textbook-like answer.

"Well, I'm rather inclined to believe in the second theory despite it not answering my query. I'm quite sure I am one with my mer self. And from what you've told me, I just acted silly, not like another person or being. Just silly with a sudden over the top devotion to the water and the moon."

Jadeclaw nodded. "Well, you'll have to delve into your memories to prove or disprove it -," Spotting Harry's look, however, the goblin continued hurriedly, "When you are in your class or your home, Lord Potter. NOT in the middle of a volcanic crater. None of us here are willing to drag you home as you go trance-like on us again."

Harry blushed, embarrassed.

"Alright, alright. I'll wait till I'm back at home. I promise." He glanced at the other goblins still observing the crater walls. "Have you found anything here?"

"Not yet, but we hope to. The place is soaked in magic but we have yet to figure out where the source is – if there even is one. And we will be taking samples of the place just to check if anything here is contributory to having bestowed your mer abilities. It may even help us figure a way to delay your transformation time upon contact with water if we are lucky."

"Are you sure it's possible?" Harry took a cursory glance around the crater, his eyes resting on the pool for a moment longer.

"You don't believe it can be done?"

Harry looked at his goblin healer. "Well, I'm no expert but I believe the main contributor to my transformation was the full moon itself and maybe even the water. Maybe the place is simply a platform for the magic to work its thing while the water and the moon perform the magic? If that is the case, no matter how many samples you take right now, you may not find anything useful."

Jadeclaw stared at him, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Well, the idea does have its merits. We'll test the other aspects of the place, just to be sure and maybe we could take a sample of the place during the next full moon."

"Well if that's all settled," Griphook interrupted, "Let's get back home. You – " The goblin looked at Harry, " Need to answer to our King, and maybe even our Queen, and we'll have to work out what to do with you knowing about our homes…"

"Is it alright for me to ask why you keep it a secret?" Harry enquired, looking between the two goblins.

Both his companions sighed.

"You'll get the explanation at Gringotts. While nobody is likely to be here, we'd rather not discuss the matter in a place not warded by our own privacy charms," Griphook answered.

Harry nodded. That was an acceptable response.

"Well then. Let's get moving."

* * *

"Severus, where – Oh, there you are! Have you read the Prophet yet?"

The potions master, who had been bent over his cauldron, raised an eyebrow at his colleague's flustered appearance.

"Well, just barge into my potions lab, why don't you," he sneered, "No need to worry that I may be adding a highly explosive ingredient that could take both our lives if my concentration was to slip."

McGonagall rolled her eyes, well used to the Slytherin Head of House's dour personality.

"Answer me."

"No, Minerva. I have not yet read that rag this morning."

"Well, read it then!" McGonagall shoved said "rag" under his nose and Severus, in turn, got a good reading of the title.

A title in bold that screamed, **"Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban!"**

He frowned at it, overcome with concern and anger. Looking up to meet McGonagall's eyes, he uttered the thought on both their minds.

"Potter's in danger."

* * *

Harrison James Potter fidgeted in his seat as he waited for the arrival of the Goblin King. He was unsure of what to expect. The goblins he had encountered had always been sour and curt but they had never wished him ill. Despite their surly behaviours, they had all been good companions – and in Griphook and Jadeclaw's case, they had so far been good friends even.

But he was currently about to meet the King of the Goblin Nation, a King who probably was not impressed that he – a thirteen-year-old wizard child – had somehow thwarted his Nation's wards and entered their homes.

Homes where the Goblin Nation's women were hidden away in.

While he was still quite unsure about what was going on, Harry had a strong inkling that it had something to do with the women of the goblins for this – whatever this was – to be treated as such a serious issue. He had never seen the female counterparts of the goblins at any time he had been at Gringotts. While logically he knew there were likely female goblins – goblettes, was that not what Griphook called them – he had not really thought about the matter.

In fact, Harry blinked, he had never thought on the matter at all. Not until he supposedly met one of the goblettes – the Queen herself for the matter. Harry frowned. That was odd. He had not even thought of Griphook's and Jadeclaw's families and such before now. He often wondered about such things when it came to his friends. If he never thought about such things when it came to the goblins, it meant he was either extremely unthoughtful or there had been something preventing him from thinking about it.

Harry frowned. Now that was an unsettling train of thought.

_"Well, they are hidden away deep underground under the protection of wards that are centuries old with no one of non-goblin decent being permitted to visit," his inner voice murmured. "You can't say you're wrong or very far from the truth with your 'something kept me from thinking about it' idea."_

Merlin. This really was a serious matter if the goblins hid their women away with so much protection that people could not even think on the matter.

Harry sighed. Trust his luck to get tangled in these matters. Why could he not have gone water-hunting in the muggle world if he had been looking for a place to swim?

Well, Griphook said that King Kargus was a reasonable goblin despite his temper. Harry hoped it was true.

The sound of a door opening reached his ears. He looked up.

There, flanked by two guards stood King Kargus of the Goblin Nation, dressed in robes of the deepest black and bearing a jet encrusted gold ring that had the Gringotts symbol engraved on it.

Harry stood and gave a deep bow, holding his hand over his heart as he was taught by the goblins during his lessons.

"It is an honour to meet you, Your Highness. I am Harrison James Potter of the wizarding race. I hope this meeting brings forth goodwill and strong alliances among yours and mine."

The goblin inclined his head, returning the gesture of keeping his hand over his heart. "Pleasure to meet you too, Lord Potter. And I share your hope that our meeting brings us both better fortunes."

The King settled down in the chair situated across Harry, leaving his guards to guard by the office's entrance. "Well Lord Potter, pleasantries aside, shall we get to the point?"

Harry, who had settled down after the King, nodded.

"I assume you want a vow from me, Your Highness. To safeguard the knowledge I have about your homes and women leaking out?"

The Goblin King regarded him with a thoughtful look. "You catch on quick, young Lord. And yes. You would be correct. I require you to give an oath to never mention or speak of the matter in the presence of any other being without the Goblin Crown's express permission. And by Goblin Crown, that currently refers to only me and my spouse – Queen Akigla whom you have met last night."

The image of a pale green goblette with deep earth brown hair tumbling down to her waist flashed across Harry's mind briefly at the mention of the Goblin Queen's name.

_"Hello there, youngling. I am Queen Akigla of Gringotts. Would you like to come out and explore?"_

Harry shook his head slightly to focus back on the present.

"Maybe I can remember everything if there is a trigger or if I try Occlumency later," thought Harry.

He looked at the King who was watching him closely.

"My apologies for my lapse, Your Highness. I do not remember the incidents of last night well but your mentioning of the Queen's name brought back a memory."

The King nodded. "Griphook and Jadeclaw warned me about your temporary lack of memory. I suppose you will be trying to regain your memories through Occlumency?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Good luck then. But let's get back to the matter at hand. You may be wondering why there is so much secrecy when it comes to our race's females?"

"I do. But I can understand if you are not willing to share it."

King Kargus raised an eyebrow. "You are willing to give the vow to keep the secret without even knowing about why you are expected to do so?"

Harry shrugged. "I was not meant to know about it in the first place. While it was unintentional, I did break your nation's privacy. I hardly think it is my right to demand answers considering the circumstances through which I found out."

"How…thoughtful of you."

Harry shrugged once again. "Would you want to get the oath over with first before you decide whether you want to let me in on the secret?"

The Goblin King nodded. "That would put my mind at ease, Lord Potter."

Harry raised his right hand, palm downwards and placed it upon the clawed hand of the Goblin King.

"I, Harrison James Potter, hereby vow to King Kargus of the Goblin Nation that I will never speak of or share the knowledge about the Goblin Nation's homes and its women to any of non-goblin descent without the express permission of the Goblin Crown from this moment onwards. So I vow upon my magic and life, so it shall be by Mother Magic's creed."

A golden glow surrounded their clasped hands and grew until it encompassed both the goblin and the wizard before fading away.

Harry let go of the Goblin King's hand, slightly shaken by the experience.

"Never given a vow before, Lord Potter?"

"Nope. That was slightly taxing. Why was that?"

"A vow is not a light matter, Lord Potter. Magic herself verifies your words and if found untrue the consequences are fatal. You do not lie on magic and get away with it."

"Merlin," Harry breathed, "Remind someone of that before they give the vow!"

King Kargus smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"

Harry groaned, muttering darkly about evil little goblins.

"Well, since you generously gave that vow so freely and did not hold it on my Nation in return for any favours like a selfish person, I think I will tell you about the reason behind my nation's secrecy when it comes to our females."

Harry glanced up, interested.

"What do you know about creatures, Lord Potter?"

* * *

"Despite the fear and bigotry that certain people have when it comes to creatures, many are aware that creature inheritances are valuable. Ask almost anybody within the magical world and they can list at least one useful aspect that the blood, fur or some other body parts of magical creatures such as centaurs, phoenixes, hippogriffs, unicorns, werewolves, vampires, veelas and such.

But none will say anything of the like for goblins. And you won't find any such properties within the goblins working in Gringotts banks. But goblin blood does have valuable properties."

Harry caught on quick.

"It's within the blood of female goblins – the goblettes."

King Kargus nodded.

"Centuries ago, when this knowledge was common among Magicals, our kind's females were often hunted for their blood. A goblette's blood, Harry Potter, is capable of healing almost any ailment. It is only second to unicorn blood. But unlike the unicorns, whose purity and innocence leaves a curse on any who take their blood without consent, a goblette's blood – willingly or unwillingly taken – leaves no ill effect on the taker. This made our goblettes quite sought after."

Harry frowned. That was terrible. Beyond atrocious, if one were to think of it morally.

_"But if you had a loved one who was on the brink of death due to disease, would you truly not be selfish?" his inner voice asked._

Harry's frown deepened. Yes, he would have been selfish. Disgust reared its ugly head within Harry at his own realization.

"Was there no way to compromise?" At the Goblin King's raised eyebrow and unimpressed expression, Harry continued, "I'm sorry for asking such a question. I don't mean to be insensitive or offensive but while I will never agree that taking a goblette's life for her blood is correct, I can see why it happens. If one of yours were on the brink of death before they have lived much, would you not at the very least consider such a selfish measure?"

King Kargus sighed.

"You are honest in your intentions, young one. A good and bad trait depending on circumstances." The King looked Harry in the eye. "If that were all a goblette's blood offered, young wizard, perhaps the goblin nation could have come to a truce with wizards if only to stop the bloodshed. But, there is one more use for a goblette's blood.

When used in a particular ritual, it can grant the user partial power over one magical ability that is thought to be rare and lost today. An ability that most goblettes possess."

Harry leaned in close, unintentionally, drawn to the tale.

"A goblette is capable of controlling the earth element of nature. It is an ancient ability that goblettes were known for aeons ago when they did not hide their existence. Some constantly stole their blood to possess the ability. Unfortunately, such an ability such as element control cannot be obtained forever unless you were blessed with it – just like your ability over water, Lord Potter." Harry drew in a sharp breath at the implications. "Yes. While not proven yet, your blood could potentially let someone else obtain control over the element of water if used accurately in a ritual. If it is possible, just like what happens with goblette blood, the power obtained artificially through rituals would, however, be temporary. It may last for at most half a year if the ritual is done well before one would have to redo the ritual with new blood."

"Merlin! So people kept hunting them over and over again for power?"

King Kargus nodded.

"Yes. I'll admit, many of your people did not take part in the deed. But they did nothing about it. When we went to your ancestors who ruled the magical world, nothing was done to protect our kind's women. They did not believe in taking blood for power – they did believe for healing, mind – but they never tried to find and punish the greedy ones who hunted our kind. As for the truce, we demanded oaths from any who claimed they wanted a goblettes blood for healing – and only healing. They refused to give it to 'lowly creatures'."

Harry winced. "Oh, wow. That's – well, that's just terrible. So you ended up hiding the existence of your female counterparts and where you lived."

"Yes."

"Well, can't blame you one bit for your decisions."

King Kargus smiled, showing his pointy teeth in a feral grin.

"You wouldn't be alive to blame if we wished it, Lord Potter."

Harry shuddered slightly. "Noted, Your Highness." The King's smile widened.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you manage to make people forget so much information that was already common knowledge?"

The King glared at him lightly. "I was hoping you would not ask. But then again, Master Griphook did warn me that your thirst for knowledge would show its ugly head, fish."

"Not you too," Harry groaned, "How many times do I have to say it? It's half-fish!"

King Kargus smirked, enjoying riling up the young wizard. He supposed he could see why his subjects had taken to tolerating the little wizard's presence.

"Well, to answer your question, you need to know about the Fidelius Charm, Lord Potter. Are you aware of it?"

Harry nodded, his mood turning slightly solemn.

"Yes, Griphook mentioned it was what my parents used to keep themselves hidden during the war." Understanding dawned on Harry. "You used the Fidelius to hide the knowledge about your homes and women! Wait – but, the Fidelius only hides locations," Harry muttered, "Unless you modified it to be capable of hiding more than just location!" Harry exclaimed, looking up to see the smirking face of the Goblin King.

"Not bad for a youngling who had not much good knowledge of magic a few weeks ago."

Harry turned red in embarrassment.

"And you are correct. Our ancestors worked on modifying the charm to suit our needs. We needed to make it such that only our Goblin Nation was aware of the existence and abilities of our goblettes. And where they lived. Took a few years but they managed it and the knowledge has been passed on for years, with every generation working to update and strengthen the wards ad protections. That is," King Kargus glared at Harry, "Until you came along and ruined it."

Harry squeaked out a sheepish and slightly guilty "Sorry, Your Highness!"

King Kargus sighed. "Well, I suppose it was alright in the end. My wife did find your presence particularly entertaining." The Goblin King found the red that crept along the neck of the young Potter Lord deeply amusing. "And since you had already made good friends with her, what with how many flowers Mother Magic knows you decorated her hair with last night –," Oh yes, the deepening red on the wizard child was highly amusing, "I suppose you may be the one exception I will allow to visit our homes from time to time."

Harry looked up, shocked.

"Really? Your people would not mind, Your Highness?"

"I have conversed with them. They find you particularly amusing and tolerable. Furthermore, my Queen has grown fond over your presence last night, and I am not ready to be facing her wrath if she were to hear you gave the oath to keep our Nation's secret but were not allowed to visit.

Besides, it will be better to have you someplace we can monitor you if you were to go – loopy, as I was informed you mentioned – the next time a full moon happens."

Harry stared at the Goblin King, shocked.

King Kargus rolled his eyes. "We goblins are capable of nice deeds once in a while, human. Close your mouth."

Harry closed his mouth, embarrassed yet again but still unable to believe what he heard.

"But, I'm sure you have met many wizards and witches over the years who are not terrible and prejudiced about creatures and such. You've never revealed this to anybody else. Why me, Your Highness?"

King Kargus stared at the youngling before him, wondering if he should tell – if he was even allowed to tell. He decided to try anyway.

"You are a special case, Harry Potter. One reason is yes, you are not prejudiced and have a relatively good heart. Another reason that we found out later on from you telling us your secret is that you are in a position to relate and understand. But the main reason is that you have given us your trust very freely and willingly – a deed that has made us fond of you for your pure faith in us. It makes us willing to trust you in return. And a fourth reason, well –"

A tingle shot through Harry suddenly, filling him with warmth and reminding him of the times he called upon his magic. He looked around, startled by the sudden acting up of his magic.

"What was that?"

King Kargus, who had stopped speaking when he felt the Gringotts wards sing, looked back at the young wizard he was speaking to.

"That was the message to me that I'm not meant to reveal the fourth reason yet or maybe it was that this is not the time to reveal it yet. I'm not sure, Lord Potter. Magic is unpredictable in her desires."

"Magic? What –"

"Another time, Lord Potter. I am not able to tell you the fourth reason yet. But to be truthful, it is not as important a reason to us Goblins in our decision to trust you so far. So maybe another day." Seeing the young one's frown, the Goblin King sighed. "I'm sorry, Lord Potter. If I really were allowed, I would tell you. But for now, it is probably best to forget about it. Magic will let you know when you need to know. Trust it. It does not let down one it has marked worthy."

Another tingle shot through Harry. King Kargus looked up to the ceiling. "Alright, alright, I'll keep quiet." He turned back to the little wizard.

"Well, I believe we have come to the end of this meeting, Lord Potter. A very successful meeting, I might say."

Harry gave a small smile. "Thanks for allowing me to come to your home."

"You're welcome. Now, how about you go and disrupt Master Griphook's time alone? I suspect he is getting too used to having a peaceful time."

Harry smirked. "I think you and I will get along really well, Your Highness," Harry replied before standing to give a short bow, with his hand over his heart. "May your enemies fall at your sword and your gold increase with Magic's blessing, King Kargus."

"May your enemies die before you and your wealth increase sky high, Lord Potter," the Goblin King replied before both goblin and wizard parted to go about their own businesses.

* * *

_"HELLOO GRIPHOOK!"_ Harry yelled mentally, bursting into his account manager's office without so much as a knock to be polite.

Griphook jumped from his seat, left arm already releasing the blade that had previously rested at his hip. He watched as his target stepped away and let the blade soar into the closed door behind him, before fixing the young one with a deadly glare. His blade reappeared at his hip.

"I am going to be activating my Occlumency shields around you."

The little lord pouted. "You're no fun. You know I can't talk to you telepathically if you block me."

"That is the point, fish."

"Oh, now that was just plain offensive. I'm half-fish Griphook. Get it right." Harry sniffed in mock hurt.

"Alright, I was going to be nice to you and let you know about it gently but you ruined your chance," Griphook sneered in mock annoyance. The goblin slammed the morning's Daily Prophet onto the desk.

Curious, Harry walked forward to take a look.

A picture of a man with haunted eyes and a painfully thin body looked back at him. The words **_'BLACK ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN!' _**flashed above his head.

Harry paled, looking up to meet Griphook who looked solemn.

"Well, we have lots to do, fish. Lots to do."

* * *

Harry appraised the man in front of him as they both settled down into their respective chairs, set opposite each other with a desk separating them and Griphook seated beside Harry.

The man was dressed in deep midnight blue robes made out of pure acromantula silk that indicated his wealth. His dark brown hair was styled in a fade cut and his face set in a neutral mask, none of his emotions out on display. Harry could clearly see where his fellow schoolmate had inherited her ice-cold looks from by staring at the man's chiselled features and chilling sapphire-blue eyes. With that closed off expression and the aura of power he exuded, the message of "not-to-be-messed-with" could not have been made any clearer.

"Thank you for taking the time to attend the meeting, Lord Greengrass, despite its suddenness."

The man nodded. "I will admit, Lord Potter," a brief glance was given to Harry's right hand that rested on the tabletop, where the Potter Lordship ring was displayed on his ring finger, "Your request to meet had me very curious."

Harry stared at the Head of House before him. The man's voice, while gruff, had a softness to it that belied his aloofness.

The lessons from the goblins resurfaced in his mind. He recalled all the hours he had spent over the past few weeks, catching up on the years of etiquette, customs and heritage lessons he had missed with the help of memory-boosting potions and the goblins' slave-driving work styles. He knew, logically, that it would be a long way before he could utilise most of those lessons fully. While a sharp mind and silver tongue were the most essential tools in successful political games, it also needed the experience time and opportunities presented. And Harry lacked the latter. He was well aware of that.

_"But here is an opportunity and while you cannot be slick, you can be blunt. The aim here is to win the man's trust over after all, not keep him as an ambiguous acquaintance." His inner voice murmured._

Steeling his courage, Harry looked at the Head of the Greengrass family in the eye.

"I shall just dive into the crux of the matter, Lord Greengrass. You were once the ally to House Potter before the night my parents were murdered and the House of Potter declined its activities politically. I am here to propose the re-establishment of that alliance."

There was a beat of silence as the sapphire-eyed man stared at the child before him.

"You do realise Lord Potter, that the House of Greengrass has no allegiance to the Light."

"You seem to be under the impression that the House of Potter has allegiance to the Light, Lord Greengrass."

Another bout of silence ensued.

"You have changed your guardian then, Lord Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the statement. Not many knew who his magical guardian had been and for the man in front of him to know…

"You have corresponded to Albus Dumbledore regarding House matters before."

Blue eyes glinted. "You're quick, child. Yes, I have indeed corresponded with that old guardian of yours. I'm curious you are not aware of the matter. I am concluding he did not tell you much about your status if you're surprised at the news and your past behaviours in Hogwarts from my eldest daughter's observations is true. Our Houses' alliances had not died due to any resistance to renewing it from my end, Lord Potter but merely due to the reservations your previous magical guardian held for my family."

Harry sighed internally. Trust the old man to mess things up for him even more. He shuddered to think of how many Houses he had already given a bad impression about if what Lord Greengrass said indicated anything.

"I apologise on behalf of House Potter for any offence my old guardian may have caused the House of Greengrass, sir. You would be accurate in your conclusion that Albus Dumbledore had left me ignorant of my heritage and true status. But let us get back to the main matter of discussion. Are you still open to an alliance now that we have made it clear my House is no longer under the unauthorised jurisdiction of Dumbledore?"

"Well, Lord Potter we can get to that after you clear a doubt of mine. Why are you interested in House Greengrass' alliance?"

"Simple. You are a powerful political ally and one who is well situated away from falling under the Light and Dark sections' conflict. I will need that neutrality for certain moves I will be making in the future, especially since I require the fickle public from labelling me as biased in any way."

The sapphire-eyed man's eyebrows rose. "Well aren't you a blunt little man."

"I have been taught as a child that honesty is the best policy, Lord Greengrass," Harry replied, offering an extremely innocent expression.

The man's lips quirked upwards slightly.

"Well then, Lord Potter. Shall we discuss the finer details of this alliance?"

Harry simply smiled. "It will be a pleasure."

* * *

"We spend weeks teaching you and this is what you do."

Harry glanced at the goblin, absently playing with the sleeves of his dark-emerald robes. From the way he was bent over his paperwork and not shooting a glare that could rival a basilisk at Harry, the little wizard was sure his account manager was not truly displeased.

"Well, it worked, Griphook. Besides half your lessons are for when I am surrounded by political sharks eager to manipulate me for fame, money and power. The other half on etiquette, customs and control of emotions I had executed beautifully during the meeting, even if I say so myself. Lord Greengrass was to be a long term ally and from records, the Greengrass family had been pretty good allies with House Potter for centuries. It would be shameful to rebuild that alliance simply for political gain."

"It was originally built for that."

"But it had obviously flourished to more than that over the years if what the Potter Grimoire from my family vaults says is true."

"Trust you Potters to write more than just spells and inventions in such a thing."

Harry gave a cheeky grin. "Well, it was for the best now, wasn't it? Stop sulking Griphook, you will see your lessons in action through me sooner or later."

"I do not sulk, fish."

"It's half-fish, honestly!" Harry huffed.

"Mhh-hmm"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, since we are talking about meetings, have you managed to organise one with _her_?"

"Who?"

"You know who, Griphook."

"I'm afraid I do not correspond with the Dark Lord, fish. Besides, that's a him, not a her."

Harry blinked for a moment confused before the words' meaning registered in his mind.

"Oh very funny, Griphook. I'm dying of laughter," he deadpanned. "Just answer me already."

"Well then, no." Griphook looked up from his paperwork. "Honestly Harrison, I just owled her an hour ago. The reply has yet to come. How would I know if she accepted?"

Harry bit his lip. "Ok, sorry. Just a little nervous I suppose."

Griphook titled his head, regarding the young wizard for a moment before looking back down.

"You worry too much. One thing about your race's so-called purebloods is that they always make time for family, even if they do not like them one bit. You'll get a chance to talk at the very least. Now go back home, Harrison. And get something productive done instead of annoying me, would you?"

Harry smirked, inwardly reassured by the goblin's answer. He stood up, heading to the Floo.

"Honestly Griphook, one would think you are eager to be rid of my company."

"I am."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stone-hearted git."

"Thanks for the compliment."

Harry rolled his eyes again, grabbing the Floo powder and bracing himself for the slightly sooty transport.

"See you tomorrow."

"I'll enjoy my small period of peace till then" was the reply he received.

He vanished in a burst of green flame.


	9. The Dogfather's Return

_His magic flared, giving a clear command._

_He raised his hand, palm facing away, fingers spread and relaxed. He moved his wrist gently._

_The sphere of water in front of him shifted to adopt the shape of a dolphin. _

_He felt his connection with the water strengthen. His magic hummed in approval. _

_~Learn~ it seemed to say. ~Tune yourself irreversibly to it~_

_He closed his eyes, spreading out his senses to memorize the feel of the water against his magic. It as wonderful and right._

_He moved his wrist more. The water dolphin started changing sizes. He ceased his movements. The dolphin stilled._

_He felt his magic hum once more, signalling him to move on._

_His fingers straightened, no longer spread out. The water dolphin started to freeze._

_He felt a buzz throughout his body as his magic bristled in dissatisfaction._

_~Faster. Learn control.~_

_He focused on his intent. The dolphin was frozen solid the next moment – and promptly started falling back into the pool. His connection had vanished now that the dolphin was no longer embodies by the liquid state of water._

_His magic flared, angry at the loss of its connection. It lashed out of him, seeking out the falling dolphin._

_He felt himself having a weak connection with the ice dolphin after a while. He latched onto the feeling, pushing his magic more to memorize it and strengthen the bond. _

_The process was tiring. But he refused to waver his attention from the now smooth and cold sensation of the solid form of water he was feeling through his connection. So different from the lax and lukewarm feel of liquid water yet somehow still giving him a sense of rightness._

_His magic was slightly drained but it hummed in approval when the connection strengthened after a while._

_He had tuned himself to the solid form of water successfully._

_~Good~ it whispered._

_He smiled, happy at the compliment. He held onto the ice dolphin for a moment longer, marvelling at its feel against his magic. A glint on its surface had him looking upwards._

_A full moon shone down on him, situated in the centre of the volcanic crater's opening._

_ ~Next, Harrison.~_

_He looked back to his ice dolphin. His fingers spread out once more and started to curl themselves inward. The ice dolphin started to melt._

_A tingle of magic shot through him and he quickened the process as demanded. Soon the dolphin evaporated, turning the air in front of him slightly misty._

_His magic flared again and he felt it reaching out to the warm, misty air, tuning itself the third time that night to water – this time to its gaseous form. The process was easier this time, with his previous two experiences helping him adapt faster. And soon, he was in tune with the water in the air, naked to his human eye but crystal clear within his magic's vision. _

_His magic hummed content now that it was one with its favourite element._

_He smiled, happy that he had completed his lessons for the night._

_~Not yet~ It whispered. ~One more~_

_Harry frowned, puzzled._

_His magic rose within him, taking over. A new water sphere rose from the pool and shaped itself into a lily. His arm lifted, his fingers stretching as he did a new gesture he had never done before._

_The water hardened, not into ice but into a jelly-like substance that defined the features of the flower it was shaped after. His magic tingled, soaring towards the partially hardened object to wrap itself around it. His connection did not waver as he expected._

_He moved his hand again, repeating the whole process. The movement further hardened the water in front of him until it was completely hardened into the shape of a lily flower. His magic hummed in approval at the completion of the work._

_He lowered the lily sculpture onto the pool, letting it sink to the bottom slowly. He would come back for it another time._

_He glanced upwards._

_The moon was still shining brightly. But only a quarter of it could be viewed from the pool. _

_Time was almost up._

_The magic in his surroundings pulsed, lightening up the dull volcanic crater in white light. _

_The voice whispered in his mind again, gentle but urgent._

**_~ Learn Harrison ~_**

_An image of his own self surrounded by numerous water spheres, each changing shape, hardening, freezing, melting simultaneously at different speeds entered his mind._

_The message was clear._

_He had to learn and learn quickly._

_"Ok," he thought back in reply. The magic in the moon pool hummed in delight at his answer._

_He fell back onto the water to float once again, the exhaustion of his magical expenditure catching up with his body._

_The last of the magic around him simmered down and vanished as the moon finally disappeared from view from within the crater._

_He closed his eyes._

* * *

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp, perplexed by his discovery – and promptly fell off his sofa.

Rubbing his elbow which had a nasty impact with the floor and muttering under his breath that he had to find better environments to practice Occlumency, he glared at the said floor he was sprawled upon.

"Next time I should do this in my bed," he thought as he gingerly stood and seated himself back on his sofa. A crash to his left had him looking to his side. He found himself watching one of his fire belching umbrellas chasing his wardrobe which seemed to have trouble manoeuvring itself around the furniture in his living room.

He resisted the urge to slap his own forehead.

"Let him go will you?" he shouted to his disruptive belongings, "You two are making too much of noise."

Immediately both umbrella and wardrobe came to a standstill and stood like statues.

Harry rolled his eyes at finding a wardrobe and bright yellow umbrella situated in the middle of his living room. "Next time, I need to make better life decisions while shopping," he thought absently as he looked about his refurbished living room. But even while he ranted internally at his rather haphazard and defiantly unique home, he knew deep down that he would not change a single thing. He loved it very much, messy and unusual structure and all.

Shaking himself slightly to get back on track on his task, now that the room was quiet again, Harry let his thoughts wander back to what he had uncovered during his Occlumency practice.

Almost all of it was embarrassing if he were to be truthful. Griphook had not mentioned many details when it came to what he did in his moonstruck phase and now he was absolutely glad about it. The surly goblin would have teased him mercilessly!

Harry shuddered. Whatever had he been even thinking? He had completely been out of his mind. That was it. There was no other explanation as to why he would spontaneously start decorating the Goblin Queen's hair with water flowers and ice sculptures while babbling on about inconsequential matters.

And the eating! Merlin, what an embarrassment!

He had ordered – ORDERED! – both the King and Queen of the Goblin Nation for fish to eat! And had eaten so much of fish raw! In fact, he had rejected the first batch of cooked fish the goblins had found for him.

Harry wanted to bash his head against the stone walls of his living room. Whatever had possessed him? He had eaten enough for a whole army in his opinion.

At least the memories from the moon pool were less embarrassing, though they absolutely confused him.

The message was clear as to why the whole moon fiasco happened. He was to learn to master his water ability.

But what of the whispered voice? Who was it? Why had it asked him to master and learn about his new abilities? There had been an urgent tone to the voice. Why?

And what he had achieved in the moon pool was perplexing as well.

All this while, he had only manipulated water here and there for fun. But the moon pool had just taught him to do more than simple fancies. He could connect with water if what he had deciphered from the unexpected lesson was correct. And from what he had felt from his memories, the feeling was simply wonderful and right. As if that was what he was meant to do – become a part of the water in all essence.

But the pool had never covered all of the abilities he had uncovered. What about his ability to talk to creatures of all kinds? Had he already figured out the gist of it? Harry doubted that. Maybe he would be taught about it after he mastered his water powers?

He frowned, unsure.

_"Perhaps the main question is, are you going to attempt to master your powers as was requested?" his inner voice murmured. "If you were meant to know all these answers to your questions, you would know it when the time is right. Something big is at play here, you may not get all of your answers immediately yet."_

Harry sighed, resenting his inner self for being right. He would try to find answers to his questions, despite that. He'll just have to concede to remaining in the dark if he were unsuccessful.

As for the mastering of his abilities, well he would master them. It would be a waste not to and would even put him at a disadvantage in the future if he had to use his powers but was simply not skilled at controlling it. And he trusted the voice. Whatever it was…whoever it was. If it knew about his abilities, it likely had the answers about his transformation.

Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This was getting a tad too complicated.

* * *

"No."

"Severus please underst–," Albus started.

"It won't work, Albus."

"But –,"

"He is right, Albus."

Albus sighed, getting tired of the interruptions. "We need to keep Harry safe."

"And how would making him stay at a place of your choosing help?" Severus' silky voice questioned. "Your last attempt was a big failure if I recalled correctly."

Albus flinched but knew very well that he deserved his colleagues' distrust and doubt after what he had done – albeit unintentionally – to Harry.

"I repeat. Severus is right Albus. Besides, he is much safer at wherever he is currently staying – most likely an ancestral home. And considering nobody knows about his whereabouts except for him and likely no one who is not directly related can possibly visit him, his safety is very guaranteed, Albus. I suggest you stop trying to meddle in his affairs that do not concern you," Minerva stated harshly.

Albus sighed once more, conceding to the truth in his Deputy Headmistress' words. He had forgotten that ancestral homes were well protected after he had discarded them as options for Harry to live alone in as a toddler who was incapable of taking care of himself back then.

"I suppose. But we would still need to warn him of Black and his parents' history. There is a chance he is well aware of Potter properties and their location, especially if young Harry was never taught to change the ward access." Seeing the looks on his colleagues' faces, the old Headmaster continued, "I'm not trying to interfere. I promise. However, I would like to rectify my past deeds. I do wish to keep Harry safe."

"Perhaps you could start by discarding your delusional beliefs that he needs your protection and advised when he has not requested for it. You seem to do much of your misdeeds due to that foolish belief of yours," Severus stated, voice coated with unhidden resentment before he left the Headmaster's office swiftly.

Minerva frowned at the Potions Masters out of the characteristic display of emotions. She turned to her old mentor, eyebrow raised in question.

"What did you do Albus?"

Albus sighed, seating himself down into his chair.

"He successfully cornered me a few days ago, demanding to know what happened at my meeting with Harry. I showed him my memories."

Minerva's eyebrows rose. "That bad?" she thought, glancing back to the closed door. "No wonder Severus was unusually upset."

She turned back to her old mentor. "I suggest you heed his advice then, Albus. If Severus is truly upset to show it, it means you really are going about the wrong way at this matter."

"But Minerva, Harry –"

"Is capable of taking care of himself despite his young age. He has been taking care of himself for years now while he had lived with those horrid muggles," Minerva ignored Albus' flinch, "And he has the goblins to help him out if needed. And before you argue, might I remind you, the goblins are excellent Ward Masters despite the majority of the wizarding world dismissing their talents. He is safe. And I'm sure the goblins would have already informed him of Black and his history too." Minerva sighed at the Hogwarts Headmaster. "You are worrying unnecessarily, Albus."

And with that, the Transfiguration Mistress left the Headmaster's office, leaving an old man to his own musings.

"But what of his destiny?" Albus thought to himself. "How would he fulfil the prophecy if I can't inform him of it at the right time."

Albus glanced to the shelf he had to his right, where he knew a small hidden compartment held the destroyed diary of one Tom Marvalo Riddle. Once a bright young boy, now a mindless monster.

"Due to my own failings," Albus thought guiltily. "I should have kept a closer eye on the boy. Helped him understand why his thoughts of being better than muggles were wrong."

His gut churned at the revelations he had made over the summer after the Chamber of Secrets incident and the speculations he had over young Harry's connection with the Dark Lord. He had yet to figure out what all of it meant and what it meant – most importantly – for the prophecy. But he doubted he could help Harry if he was never to contact the boy.

Albus sighed as guilt, worry and uncertainty filled his mind while he drowned into his own musings.

* * *

"So you are going to learn to master your powers."

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Alright. I'll have Fradgrot increase your Occlumency training pace then."

Harry turned sharply to stare at his account manager in horror. "Whatever for?!" he exclaimed.

Griphook gave him an unimpressed look. "A key aspect to controlling your powers lies with your ability to control your emotions, fish. If you are not disciplined enough to control yourself, you will never be capable of wielding magic correctly."

Harry grumbled at the answer.

"No one taught that at Hogwarts."

"You would find that school to be deplorable in its standards."

"Hey!" Harry started, indignantly, to defend the first place he had once had a semblance of feeling a sense of belonging.

Griphook raised a clawed had to stop the tirade at its root.

"Listen, Harrison. Hogwarts may have been great once, during the founders' time when magic was taught as it was. But today, while it is indeed the best school within Europe perhaps, it does not mean it teaches magic the best. It truly only means it is the least deplorable of all the schools. But at the end of the day, it is still deplorable."

Harry frowned, not liking the answer. "Well, the teachers do teach well, Griphook."

The surly goblin sighed.

"I never said they didn't, Harrison."

"But you said –"

"I said," Griphook interrupted, "that the school was terrible. Its curriculum is terrible. It is not a reflection of the teachers of the institution's capability," Griphook paused, "Well most of the teachers' capability from what I've heard," the goblin amended.

Harry who was thinking of Binns and Snape conceded to the amendment.

"Well, what's wrong with the curriculum?"

"Other than magic being discriminated?"

Harry frowned, not understanding.

Griphook sighed. "Such things are better absorbed if you formed your own opinions on it. The Hogwarts curriculum and the magical world's practices have undergone many changes over time, Harrison and not all changes were good. Maybe you should try and find out more on History of Magic." At Harry's enquiring look, the goblin elaborated. "During your lessons with us, we've only equipped you with the knowledge necessary for you to manoeuvre around the current political platforms and knowledge that was related to your heritage, considering the short amount of time we had. There's more to Magical History, Harrison. Read up. Research. Come to me or Fradgrot if you have any doubts; though be warned we have our own biases on certain topics."

Harry stared at his account manager for a moment, before nodding. "OK."

The goblin shuffled his papers. "On to other matters. The meeting has been scheduled already. It is set for tomorrow, at nine in the morning. As always, it will be held at one of Gringotts' warded rooms, unless you wish otherwise."

Harry shook his head, "That's fine with me. Did you pick anything up from the response?"

"Hardly. It was a letter response after all. Though I'm assuming she would have been surprised by the implications."

Harry nodded, "I suppose. We'll just have to wait and see."

A moment later, Harry confessed the thought that was still bugging him since the start of the conversation. "Do I have to have more Occlumency training with Fradgrot?" he asked, almost whining.

Griphook rolled his eyes, though the smirk he had on his face betrayed the amusement the goblin was feeling at Harry's plight/ "Yes, fish. He is the best tutor at it amongst us Goblins."

"But he is mean, Griphook!"

Girphook ignored him.

* * *

Harry looked up from his _Arithmancy – a Beginner's Guide _textbook at the sound of rustling leaves. He knew from the past few days that he need not need to fear any animal – predator or prey – that he chanced upon in the woods, considering his home, which included the woods he was surrounded by, was apparently warded to keep dangerous animals away from him. His ability to speak with creatures also helped in the sense that he was always alerted when an animal chose to approach him and that he could always distract the animals with the talking if the wards were to fail (which was a very minuscule probability).

But being cautious was never a bad trait. He glanced down at the bushes and greenery surrounding the tree he was perched upon, trying to find the culprit behind the noise he had heard.

"Odd," he thought, "I don't sense any new animals around me and my magic had not alerted any creatures approaching me…"

Seeing nothing, he wondered if he should just head home, considering the day was starting to darken.

Another rustle of leaves had Harry looking down to his left. He tensed slightly, putting his book away in his sling bag and staring at the bushes.

A moment later, a huge creature stepped out from the bushes.

Harry stilled, half of him mesmerised at the sight of the creature while the other, more sensible half of him tensed in fear as the creature's identity registered in his mind. He had chanced upon the information about it briefly from the books he had scoured through his vaults about magical creatures. There was not much said about them and they were considered rare to the point that people believed they were myths. And Harry had too until now.

_The Grim is a solitary creature, lurking where death and decay are often common. It is believed to be Death's loyal companion, guarding and guiding souls that no longer belong to the mortal plane to worlds unknown. _

_To see a Grim is impossible for a mortal – magical or muggle – unless of course, they were mere seconds from death itself. This trait makes it why a Grim is known so famously among the Magical World to be an omen for Death._

The hair at the back of Harry's neck rose as he remembered the words he had once read. He hoped more fervently that what he had read was for once a complete myth.

_"Besides," his inner self supplied a little hysterically, "If only those who were about to die can see the Grim, who is to believe the descriptions people have mentioned about these mythical creatures. It's all made up." Harry nodded to himself internally. "Made up. Made up. Made up."_

He glanced about slowly, looking for a way to escape while reaching out with his magic to talk to the creature. Maybe he could talk it out of killing him.

"So much for the wards never failing," he thought.

His internal panic reached new heights when he realised he could not possibly outrun the creature with him needing to jump down from a three feet tall tree first. Harry cursed internally, redirecting all his attention to focus on the creature in front of him.

His magic tingled and he searched for a link between him and the creature – a link of purple light that he had often found between himself and other creatures in his mind.

He found it within a few seconds, only it was not purple but a mix of red and copper.

Harry frowned. The only time he had had a different coloured link of magic between a creature and him was with Hedwig who was his familiar, according to Griphook, and as such had a different kind of bond with him. The colour between her and him had been silver.

He had never encountered red or copper ever. In fact, he had never seen dual colours in a link. And the magic surrounding it did not seem animal-like either.

_"Perhaps it's the link for Death," his inner voice provided sarcastically, miffed at him not yet escaping._

Harry scowled, focussing back on the shaggy Grim before him properly, trying to take note of any weaknesses he could exploit, however unlikely the chances seemed.

It was a huge creature, he noted again, easily towering over Harry had he been standing beside it. It had very thick fur of the deepest black and sharp silver claws in each paw. Its ears were pointed and upright, signalling the beast was alert. And its eyes, which seemed to have an intelligent look in them, were gleaming silver. And it was looking right at him.

Harry paused. Wait. Silver?

"Didn't a Grim have gleaming red eyes according to the books?" he thought, confused.

_"Made up. Made up. Made up." His internal voice chanted._

Harry ignored his internal panic.

Taking a chance at the intelligent look on the creature's face and feeling highly silly, Harry focused on the link he had between the creature and him and attempted to speak to it telepathically.

It failed.

Harry frowned. He had always been able to speak with creatures telepathically. Unless the creatures were intelligent enough to have Occlumency shields like the goblins.

_"Or if they were not creatures at all but messengers for Death," his inner voice muttered sardonically._

Harry ignored it again.

"Well, if it has enough sense to block telepathy, it must be able to understand human speech," he thought.

Clearing his throat, he spoke out loud to the creature, his own magic still tightly grasping the link between the creature and it, just in case he had to do anything drastic to escape. Hopefully, he wouldn't. He didn't want to hurt a creature intentionally unless he had no choice.

"Um, hello?" he winced at his poor starting, "Mr Grim sir?" Wow, he was terrible at this. He stared at the unresponsive dog. "Um, can you understand me at all?"

His feelings of silliness vanished when the creature, which was still staring at him unblinkingly, seemed to give a small nod.

Hoping against hope that _that _had not been a part of his overactive imagination, Harry continued on, "Um, by any chance, are you here to escort me to Death or something equally horrifying?"

To Harry's surprise, the creature seemed startled by the question. A moment later, it was shaking his head fervently, whining. Harry felt his link with the creature pulse, sending his emotions of regret, sadness and strangely enough protectiveness.

Harry stared at the creature, puzzled by its response but not hesitating to trust that it was honest. He doubted it could fake emotions at such intensity. Thoughts churned in his head as he decided on what to do next.

_"Don't even think about it," his inner voice warned._

Harry ignored it, taking a closer look at the huge dog in front of him, now that he was not as scared of the creature. Despite its big size, it did not seem quite healthy to him. Its fur was quite matted and not shining like how the well looked after dogs he had seen when visiting Aunt Marge - his Uncle's equally unpleasant sister. And Harry doubted it was supposed to look this skinny, though somehow it added to its intimidating appearance rather than diminishing it.

_"Stop your foolish thoughts now," his inner voice commanded. "Stop thinking them!"_

Harry looked at the creature whining softly below him. It seemed to be just sad now from what he felt through the link. Harry supposed it took his silence as him not believing its response.

_"Honestly, where is your sense of self-preservation?" his inner voice asked, "Oh wait! I'm right here and you are ignoring me."_

Harry gave a more genuine smile at the creature below him. "Say then, Mr Grim. If you are not here to eat me, how about you come to my home and I'll set you up with something to eat?"

_"You are going to get us killed one day," his inner voice lamented._

Harry ignored his inner self in favour of beaming down at the huge dog wagging its tail at him at the base of the tree. Yes, he usually was not fond of dogs, especially considering most of his experiences with those animals were when he was with Aunt Marge and her unpleasant brood. But he really could not leave this one here when it was clearly in need of good food and care.

"It should be fine," he thought. "I've heard dogs are great companions. And this one doesn't seem to be faring well in the wild."

Harry climbed down from the tree.

"Alright then. Follow me, Mr Big Black Dog."

They started the trudge back home.

* * *

"I was scared of this?" Harry thought as he stared at the whining dog lying on his lap with a raised eyebrow.

A pitying moan filled his room again, causing Harry's raised eyebrow to climb further up his forehead.

"Don't look at me like that, silly," he said to the whining dog. "I told you to eat your food slowly. It wouldn't have gone anywhere but you had to scarf it down at lightning speed did you not? Well then, you'll have to bear with the consequences."

More whining filled the room. Harry stifled a smile. "I suppose this will teach you to remember to eat slowly next time. Now come on, I'll get a warm bath ready for you. Has anyone told you, you reek?"

* * *

Well, he obviously did not think this through.

Harry stared at the soap-filled bath before him, realising the problem way too late. A nudge on his leg had him looking down to meet glowing silver eyes. Ever since the fear had cleared from his mind, he had a strange sense of Déjà vu at the creatures silver eyes, like he had seen them a long time before. He stared at the dirty and mangled state the creature was in and sighed.

"I don't suppose you can bathe yourself? I really don't want to touch the water," he muttered. Perhaps it was silly of him, but unlike with Hedwig and most other animals he had met, he was not very comfortable with changing into his mer form in front of the intimidating but friendly dog. While he trusted it to not harm him, Harry was sure the creature was not entirely as it seemed. It was far too intelligent with the way it interacted with him. And far too domesticated and disciplined in its actions for a wild dog. Most of the creatures he had conversed with had always retained their wildness in their personality. Unless they were animals used to human contact, like the post owls. Yet, this creature, clearly wild was acting too trusting and friendly against its actual nature. He was certain it was not a creature that would harm him, but he was not about to go against his gut and reveal his secret to it, even if it was just a creature.

A bark brought him back to reality. He looked down at the dog that was currently wagging its tail and nodding its head.

"What? Are you really telling me you are capable of bathing yourself?"

A bark and a nod answered him. Harry gave a pointed look at the dog's very dirty state. "Are you sure?"

The expression he got in reply would be what Harry supposed was the equivalent to a dog looking indignant. A moment later, he was being nudged out of the bathroom by the shaggy creature and was soon left facing a closed door.

He wondered if he imagined the click of the lock and the slight flash of magic he sensed within the bathroom as he walked off, puzzled.

"Bark if you need me!" He called out, feeling strangely useless.

"Far too intelligent," he thought with a slight frown, wondering if he should be worried.

* * *

He was seated upon his sofa, stroking Hedwig as he silently conversed with her about her day when the dog came back.

Harry was surprised to see the complete change of the creature's image. Gone was the matted and tangled fur. In its place was shiny and smooth black fur that seemed to ruffle about slightly, despite there being no breeze around the creature. Its silver claws were even sharper and shinier and while it was still painfully underweight due to its malnourished state, the majestic look Harry had expected from the creature was starting to show.

Harry was still wondering how on earth it had managed to clean itself up with no help when Hedwig surprised him even more with her telepathic statement.

_Oh. You finally found your Sire, Harrison. Congratulations. But why is he not in his two-legged form?_

Harry blinked. He supposed sire meant father in Hedwig's way of speaking. But his familiar knew very well that his father was dead, just like his mother.

Swallowing the slight pang of pain that the train of thought was causing him, Harry looked at his favourite companion. The Grim had settled down at his feet by now, looking on at him staring at his owl, curiosity shining in its eyes at his behaviour.

_"My real father – sire as you called him – is dead, Hedwig. You know that. Why would you say I'm searching for him?"_

Hedwig seemed to become exasperated at her wizard's puzzlement.

_"Silly, wizard. Of course I know that. I'm talking about your,"_ Hedwig paused, as though searching her memory for the word,_ "Godfather, yes. The one you have been going on and on about searching."_

Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. _"What?!"_ A nudge at his feet had him looking down to face a concerned dog, silver eyes inquiring.

_He giggled as he soared higher, before falling again. Strong arms caught him mid-air, firm yet gentle. _

_"Padfoot," a feminine voice called out, "Be careful with my son!"_

_"Aw, don't worry Lils," the silver-eyed man brought him closer, shifting to hold him close to his chest, "I won't ever let my godson fall. Besides, I've yet to decide if I should even let you two have him. I wanna keep him forever!"_

_A familiar red-haired woman walked into his field of vision. "Mama!" he gurgled, stretching out his fingers to reach the woman._

_"I'll like to see you try, Black. Take one foot out of this house with my son and I will destroy you."_

_"Gee, woman," the man replied, "No need to go to such extreme measures. It's not like I'll succeed in making him leave you anyway." The man gave a pointed look at how he was now playing with the woman's deep crimson hair, giggling and gurgling animatedly._

_The woman smiled, proud and pleased._

_A comfortable silence stretched between the two._

_"You do know that I won't ever let him fall, right Lily?" Something flashed in his eyes._

_She gave a small smile. "I know, Padfoot as does James. It's why we never hesitated to make you his Godfather, after all. You would go to the ends of hell and back us. I would not have agreed to the decision otherwise."_

_The man gave a small smile before it morphed into a smirk. "I'm still going to try to steal him when he is older and more sensible."_

_The woman rolled her eyes._

Harry snapped out of his flashback when he felt a small peck on his cheek. He turned to meet the concerned amber eyes of his familiar.

_You have been staring at the air for a while._ Hedwig inclined her head subtly to the floor. _He has been worried too._

Harry looked down to meet very familiar eyes. He couldn't believe he did not connect the similarity. He had been viewing his old memories so many times the past few days.

_"How did you recognise him, Hed?"_ He asked his owl while still staring at the creature before him in wonder.

_"I am your familiar, wizard. It gives me the ability to sense your kindred, as you would be able to sense mine if I had. We are bonded, just like he and you seem to share a bond."_

Something clicked in his mind. "The dual colours!" he thought. "One must represent his relation to me as my godfather, while the other is probably indicative of his ability to turn into a creature."

Another nudge brought his attention to the humungous dog below him. It was closer now. Harry could hear its panting and see the concern shining in its eyes clearly.

At the back of his mind, he was sure he should approach the subject carefully but anxious excitement had him throw all caution to the wind. He knew the man meant no harm. He had known since the third week of his summer holidays, after all. But now that he had him right in front of him, he was not sure on what would be the right approach. How does one greet their somehow wrongfully imprisoned Godfather who was staring at them while shaped like a dog?

He looked at the shaggy creature still staring at him with concerned eyes. Doubts and fear swirled within him. What would happen after the man changed back? Would he still be the same person from his memories? Azkaban was said to drive people insane. Would he be willing to be a part of Harry's life at all? Harry knew very well that he still had hopes of being part of a family. He had always wished it. But facing the actual possibility of having someone who would care for him and whom he could depend on was highly unnerving.

And the topic on how Sirius was imprisoned in the first place. Why had the man been in a confrontation with that Peter Pettigrew? Harry did not see that man much from his memories, save for once or twice. And he clearly remembered his father mentioning Pettigrew betraying their family before his mother had run upstairs to his nursery, on the day Voldemort came to kill him. Harry could formulate a rough idea of what had transpired but he was still not sure on the story. Why had Sirius gone after the man instead of finding Harry first, if he knew Harry was alive?

And why had he escaped the wizarding prison now of all time? Why after twelve years?

"Change back," he whispered hoarsely to the dog in front of him, which adopted a confused look. "Please change back, Padfoot."

He watched, half amused and half worried as the creature gave a shocked yelp, scrambling backwards from where it had risen to keep its front paws on his knees. It fell unceremoniously onto its butt.

Harry idly wondered if the sofa was cursed to have the people around it fall down as he scratched Hedwig's head absently to soothe his nerves. He received the feeling of contentment and amusement from his link with her.

A moment later, an unhealthily skinny and gaunt-looking man was lying sprawled on his floor, dressed in rags that Harry supposed were once beautiful robes. The expression of shock, now mingled with slight worry and wonder, was still etched onto his face.

Harry had the feeling he had yet to realise he changed back. Meanwhile, he felt his Head of House ring warm up slightly, alerting him that the man had been keyed into the wards temporarily, partially due to his magical status as his godfather and mostly due to Harry having no intentions of kicking him out. Harry supposed he would have to key the man in by the end of the day to his wards.

An awkward silence stretched between the two, each staring at the other disbelievingly. A while later, a crash resounded from his room upstairs, jolting both wizards out of their reverie. Harry silently cursed his furniture.

Licking his lips and feeling slightly nervous, he attempted small talk with the man before him.

"Well, I suppose I'm terribly late. But welcome to my home, Godfather. Would you perhaps like some tea?"

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! I had trouble deciding between Harry finding Sirius before Hogwarts starts or after. But this leaves more time for me to decide is Harry should even go to Hogwarts at all. Ah, I'm so good at procrastinating.**

**Well, what do you guys suppose will happen next? How would Harry and Sirius react to each other?**


	10. Decisions

**A/N: Wow, another post in under five days or so. I must either be extremely bored or procrastinating important work... ****(・・；)**

**Pardon me if there are any errors in grammar and all that. ****●︿● I'll edit it when I read it over and over again after posting...because to be truthful that's when all the mistakes decide to show themselves to my eyes...It's a conspiracy, I swear. I'm still finding errors here and there in my last chapters.**

**The shame...oh the shame...**

**Ok, I'll stop now.**

**Enjoy folks!**

* * *

Griphook paused, stopping his speech in midsentence when he felt his Floo flare-up. An emerald-eyed teen stumbled out of it, with his face expressing panic. His jet hair – which seemed to have a faint sheen of red under the fire's light, Griphook noted – was more dishevelled than usual.

"Oh, Jadeclaw! You're here too. That's great!"

Griphook shared a look with his colleague.

"What's the matter?" Jadeclaw asked.

The little wizard winced.

"Well, I desperately need your help. I may have a situation back home."

Griphook frowned. "What kind of situation?"

"The kind that involves me keeping a recent escapee of Azkaban to be in a forced sleep so as to keep him from running away in his unstable state," Harry Potter revealed with a sheepish grin.

* * *

"You've drugged him to sleep."

Jadeclaw shrugged. "You did the same."

Harry shrugged too, unable to deny it. "The man kept changing his mind and refused to listen," he explained. "I finally forced him to have some tea and may have forgotten to mention it had one excessive drop of calming draught."

Jadeclaw snorted.

"We fed him Veritaserum." Harry raised an eyebrow at the admission.

"What? We had to make sure he said the whole truth and find out whether he had any intentions of running after the rat as he called the traitor. Uncooperative patients are difficult to handle."

"Does he have such intentions?" Harry asked though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Oh yes, Harrison. Very much. We are concerned that he may get up and run off after the traitor in his unstable state. Truthfully, I don't believe that's his main goal. He's mentioned he needs to protect you quite a lot of times. At the end of the day, his mind seems to have two self-made mantras. 'Kill the rat to protect my pup' and 'Protect pup'. As you can see, his intentions are not evil but neither are they good for him at his current state. But that's what dementors do to humans."

Harry sighed. "Then I suppose keeping him drugged till he is well is a good thing. But that will only work with his physical health for now. What to do with his mental state?"

"There are ways to help him. Getting him physically well would already help his mind. The body and mind are connected after all. One cannot prosper without the other being in good health. Along with that Occlumency, therapy, maybe even both could help to bring clarity to his mind and organize his thoughts and feelings. Much of it falls to time as well though we should be able to get him in a good state by the first half of the year, considering he is not crazy, to be honest." Jadeclaw turned to look at Harry. "You, most importantly, have to be a constant presence in his life until he has recovered at least. It has a high probability of doing him good."

Jadeclaw glanced at the report in his hands before continuing.

"As I was saying, he is not deranged as people might believe after such a long stay in that horrid prison. What he is, however, is depressed and disorientated. From what we have gathered, his childhood was not the best until he ran to your father's family, then he was part of the war where he lost the most important people in his life in one night and was never given the chance to grieve their passings properly. That was followed by him getting framed by a friend who turned out to be a betrayer and finally was left imprisoned unlawfully – another betrayal by the people he knew since they didn't believe in his innocence. And he was left in the company of creatures that made him relive his worst memories over and over.

Thanks to his animagus form, he managed to keep away most of the dementors' effects but, no matter how diminished the effects, what got through to him over the twelve years was damaging no less. Luckily, he can still think and act like a normal and healthy human. _But_ he is not healthy at all. Right now, he is an almost broken man whose only link to sanity is his knowledge that he is innocent and his fierce need to protect his godson.

Frankly, the fact that he is not yet broken speaks only good things about him."

Harry winced. That hardly sounded reassuring to him. But he supposed Jadeclaw, as a citizen from a warrior race, would appreciate the tenacity. "Alright then, this will be a long ride uphill."

"Not necessarily."

Harry raised his eyebrow.

"As I said, he is depressed and disorientated but still functional. And while he wants to bring Pettigrew to justice, he was willing to cooperate a little with us when we said that _you_ wanted him to recover which gives hope that he will cooperate in the future to get better.

The disorientation can be fixed up with good sleep and good food, along with your presence to ground him. His depression would be a harder battle but considering he has the clarity of mind to realize he is innocent, we can get him over the guilt he has. And now, with your presence to help and the lack of imprisonment with dementors, he will have the opportunity to grieve. So we have all the solutions. Yes, the ride is going to still be uphill but with good luck, it may not take a long time to get him back on track."

Harry nodded, somewhat feeling hopeful. "How bad is his physical health right now?"

"Not as bad as his mind. Extreme malnourishment, that's his main problem. We'll have to make sure he eats right and at the right times. He may skip meals due to being used to starving before eating in extreme once it gets too much, now that he has access to food. But it will be an unhealthy habit and would definitely not do him any good."

Harry who was reminded of the first time he went to Hogwarts, grimaced. That had happened to him until he had learnt to force himself to moderate by the time he was in his second year. Nobody had noticed his peculiar eating habits as he had distracted his friends with conversations.

"There are also some bones that are not healed right, from the war or the imprisonment, we are not quite sure. But they can be fixed easily. We should be able to get him to at least a healthy weight by the third quarter of the year with the right potions and care. We may still have to keep him drugged but that would hinder any progress on his mind if it causes him distrust at our actions or triggers memories of being locked up again in his mind."

Harry sighed. "How about keeping him at my home?"

Jadeclaw turned to look at the young wizard.

"My home is big enough for him to wander considering the woods surrounding it. We can have wards to keep him from leaving through using apparition, portkey or the Floo without anyone accompanying him. And preventing him from exiting the ground through perimeter wards should also be feasible. Also, I can stay with him which would help and I could arrange to have you or your Healer colleagues to come by often." Harry paused. "You could even stay there if you need, to be honest. I have enough rooms."

Jadeclaw nodded. "It is a plausible idea, though we wouldn't need the hosting unless you decide to attend Hogwarts. Then we'll need to watch over your mutt," Harry rolled his eyes at the description, "during the day. But the idea is much better than keeping him drugged twenty-four seven. You do realize though, the implications that this will have on your privacy?"

Harry shrugged. "He's family. I suppose I'll just have to learn to adjust to it. And I don't know if I can tell him about my...fish tendencies yet," he glared at Jadeclaw for snorting, "But hopefully when he is better, I can. I just –," Harry grimaced, "I just really hope he won't be a blind Dumbledore believer."

Jadeclaw shook his head. "Doubt it fish," he ignored Harry's glare, "He was quite resentful at the Order, especially its in-charge which just so happens to be one Albus Dumbledore. Most of the members knew him from a young age but still could not bother to even give him the benefit of the doubt. Apparently he heard one of the prison guards saying that he "finally showed his Black blood" to everyone. It made him mad, to say the least, that that was what people believed about him after years of knowing him. Maybe he will still get along with the others if the circumstances demand it. But trust, it won't be there. Definitely not as strong as before."

Harry nodded, staring at the sleeping form of his godfather. It felt highly surreal to him to have a godfather after growing up bring known as an orphan for so long. He bit his lip, worried over how the man would react to having to live with him when he woke up.

"Would he still be the same person I saw in my memories?" Harry thought. A moment later, he discarded the question, realizing the stupidity in it. "Of course not. This man has been through much since twelve years ago. He's obviously changed. I doubt he would be as carefree as he was once."

Still, Harry could not help hoping that he would be able to bond with the man without any problems. That he would still be willing to love Harry as unconditionally as he did before when Harry was just a toddler. It was wishful thinking, considering what the man had been through so far, but Harry's hope at having a family swelled within him again at this new opportunity that fate bestowed him.

_"Don't get too caught up in your hopes. Keep the past in mind before trusting."_

Harry glanced away from his godfather's peaceful form, cursing his own precaution for dampening his mood.

Jadeclaw cleared his throat, drawing Harry away from his conflicted thoughts. "You should also know this. His stay at Azkaban may have..."

* * *

Harry struggled to keep his yawn from showing as he stared at the clock that told him it was five minutes to nine. _She _was due to come at any moment and he doubted having him yawn would make the best impression. But the event of the past hours had really drained him and he had caught not a wink of sleep since yesterday.

Deciding it would be better for him to not risk falling asleep since he had to brave two meetings back to back, Harry took a few sips from the Pepper Up potion Jadeclaw had offered him before placing the quarter empty vial back into his satchel. He shook his head as he felt the potent potion working on him immediately. He really had to brew his own batch. Goblin-made ones were too strong for him even with his creature ability making him able to consume more than the average wizard.

The sound of footsteps had him sitting straighter. _She _was here. Harry readied himself for a tough meeting. This would be very different from the one he had with Lord Greengrass. And he was not yet sure how the woman perceived him what with the rest of her immediate family probably not liking Harry. He hoped he would be able to change that. He was tired of having his relations being strained due to people having kept him ignorant and pushing him away from his family – distant ones or not.

If he were to not be on talking terms with _his_ family, Harry decided it would be on his own terms and judgments, not due to the perceptions and expectations others fed him. Hopefully, _she _would accept.

Also, recent revelations enabled him to have hope. If _she_ had tried to help him before, no matter how discreetly, then it meant there was more to the displayed hatred that was shown. And Harry wanted to know the real reasons rather than the speculations and strong beliefs the wizarding world had fed him. After all, it was the wizarding world's strong beliefs that had left his godfather imprisoned without a trial so Harry could not place blind faith in them any longer.

It was truly going to be a long shot. He knew very well how many things would go wrong for him and _her._ The politics, the circumstances surrounding them both and especially _her _loyalty to certain things.

Harry grimaced, thinking back on his status as the Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater of the Dark Lord.

Yes, this was likely a mission impossible. But Harry would rather have tried and failed rather than never attempting and subjected to pondering 'what-ifs'.

He drew up his Occlumency shields – they were starting to improve, thankfully – and put on a neutral face.

A gasp had him looking up to see that _she _was at the entrance of the room. He locked gaze with blue eyes.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Professor. Thank you for taking the time to come."

Minerva McGonagall nodded her head. "Good afternoon, Mr Potter. Your letter gave me quite a shock. I very well could not miss this meeting after that."

"Ah yes," Harry cleared his throat, "I'll explain the matter if you permit," he finished politely.

McGonagall inclined her head. Drawing in a deep breath and bringing up his basic Occlumency shields, Harry started the elaborate lie he and the goblins had come up with, hoping against hope McGonagall did not see through it.

"As you are probably aware, near the end of the school year a few months ago, I was bitten by a Basilisk but was saved by Fawkes' tears. Well, my current problem takes root from that peculiar circumstance."

"Madame Pomfrey was very sure nothing would happen to you from that incident, Mr Potter. Are you sure?"

"Well, was she aware that neither substance was removed from my body?"

McGonagall frowned, confused. "You had Phoenix tears heal you, did you not?"

Harry sighed. "Well that's where you were wrong. The Phoenix tears counter the Basilisk venom, they do not destroy it. It heals my system as fast as the Basilisk venom destroys it or faster. That's the only reason I'm standing here right now."

Harry hoped his Professor did not see his sweating palms that he was currently fiddling with on his lap. He supposed her slightly paling countenance meant she believed him.

"How serious is it?"

Harry avoided looking at her. "Well, um, something happened while I was staying with my," Harry paused, "relatives." He looked up at McGonagall. "I'm sure you know all about pushing Harry-the-freak into the sea, don't you Professor? You were there to go on the Harry Hunt from what I gathered at the meeting with the Headmaster." He didn't fake the anger and resentment he felt, though he was slightly guilty at aiming it at his Professor when he really was just resenting his relatives.

McGonagall closed her eyes. "Yes, I was, Mr Potter. And I'm sorry I didn't notice the signs."

Harry shrugged. She was not the first to have not noticed.

"Well," he continued on, ignoring McGonagall's guilt-stricken face in the fear that he may cave in and just say the truth, "After my very loving cousin decided to show me the wonders of a turbulent sea, I had a bout of accidental magic in my desperation to survive. I really don't know how to swim, you see. But ever since then, my medical condition started popping up. And I'm afraid that's the most I'm willing to share without a magical oath. ma'am." Harry stated.

He immediately continued, fearing again that she might just give an oath, which would create the problem of Harry having to come up with more lies.

"Basically, to explain without giving away many details, my magic is currently not acting as it should with the two substances in my body. I've already developed some allergies I'm very certain I did not have before," Harry relaxed at the partial truth he had uttered. Jadeclaw had had a sudden epiphany after the full moon incident and brought in new materials to test Harry's body's reactions to them. It had been a bizarre experience, to say the least, with Harry not remembering much unless he used Occlumency.

"And well, I can't say I'm really inclined to come to Hogwarts, especially considering the dangers I've been exposed to in the past two years while I was in that school. And unless it can be arranged for me to come and go at my convenience for whenever my healer calls, I doubt my stay at Hogwarts will be safe for me or approved by my healer."

"That can be arranged. You are permitted to leave Hogwarts due to medical or family emergencies."

"Would the Headmaster interfere?"

McGonagall sighed, "He can't. I'll make sure he doesn't."

Harry frowned. "I'm not really sure I'm convinced, Professor. Besides maybe Hermione and Ron, there are not many good memories for me there."

Harry knew in his heart that this was not true. There had been many things he had enjoyed at Hogwarts despite the majority of its fickle-minded students dampening his time there from time to time. But he was trying to make a point.

"I mean the entire school turned on me during the Chamber of Secrets incident and none of the staff did anything about it. You just let it happen." Harry ignored McGonagall's flinch, unable to feel guilt at the statement. It was true. "It's not really the most trust-inspiring environment when you condone bullying, even encourage it if Snape's behaviour says anything. Compared to that, I can just stay home and hire private tutors to teach me fairly and adequately. And I'd still be able to sit my OWLs and NEWTs. Why should I come back, Professor?"

McGonagall sighed.

"I'm sorry, Mr Po – Harry," McGonagall corrected herself. "I truly am. You are right. I have failed you as a teacher and a Head of House, as have most of the staff. And I really should have done a better job at keeping an eye on you and the rest of my lions. But I'm ashamed to admit, I didn't realize how bad things were going on with your experience with the students." McGonagall sighed. "It's not a good reason, and I definitely don't mean to use it as an excuse. I'm sorry Harry. As for why you should come back – I'm sure Hogwarts has given you not just Hermione and Ron, to be happy about, yes?"

Harry averted his gaze, unable to meet McGonagall's eyes.

"Private tutors can get you doing well in your studies, no doubt in that, Harry. But a school with peers your age is going to be vital for your growing up. Friendships you make are going to be an important part of your life. And Hogwarts can give you that. I'm sure you know that. I've seen you make friends with many people, though Hermione and Ron are undoubtedly your closest friends.

And I promise to have the staff do a better job of watching out for the welfare of the students. I'm sorry if we failed you but I assure you my colleagues don't ignore the student population. But I suppose we failed to see one of the obvious case that needed our help.

And as for your Potions professor. I will have a word with him, though I doubt it is necessary at this point."

At Harry's frown, McGonagall clarified, "For all his faults, there is one thing Severus will never tolerate, Harry. And that is child abuse." Harry raised his eyebrow in scepticism. "Yes, he acts like a bully towards any child not in Slytherin, but that is mostly a façade." McGonagall hesitated, as though unsure if she should continue. "He became a spy near the end of the war due to a certain incident. I can't tell you what it is since it's not my story to tell. But as you are quite aware, You-Know-Who is not dead. In the chance that he returns, Severus would still need to be able to retain his spy status. That's why he coddles the children whose parents support You-Know-Who and pretends to be vile to everyone else. And well," McGonagall hesitated again.

She sighed.

"Back in school, your mother and he were best friends. Something that caused your father and him to have many disagreements as they didn't like each other and didn't like the other being close to Lily. Your father, especially," McGonagall seemed apologetic in her revelations, "Was not the nicest to Severus who had his own problems to deal with without the added complications your father gave him."

Harry did not need to think much to understand the implication.

"He was a bully." The truth left a sour taste in his mouth.

McGonagall sighed. "Not to the majority. He pranked a lot with three other friends of his time. And often the pranks were harmless and funny. But when it came to certain students who were very mean and rude themselves to others, the pranks were embarrassing. And when it came to Severus," McGonagall sighed again, "He was extremely infatuated with your mother since he first saw her but Lily would not spare her glance due to his immaturity. She hated him at first you know?"

Harry kept a stoic face, though he was drinking in the story with a thundering heart. McGonagall seemed to understand despite his lack of reaction.

"So I suppose he was extremely jealous when it came to Severus' closeness with Lily. And it reflected in his pranks. They were often very mean to Severus."

"Was he ever punished?"

McGonagall sighed. "Yes. But I don't think they were harsh enough, to be truthful. Detentions scrubbing cauldrons and writing lines hardly broke these kinds of issues.

One day, while your father was agitating Severus, it caused him to let his anger at Lily who was nearby. He said terrible things. His friendship with Lily ended then and there due to his mistake.

It caused Severus to resent your father even more."

"So he takes it out on me, who looks like a carbon copy of James Potter?"

McGonagall stared at him for a moment, head tilting barely to the right before she muttered something under her breath. Harry thought it sounded something like "Not so carbon a copy anymore" which left him confused.

"The truth is, no."

Harry frowned in disbelief.

"He acts as though he is taking out his grudge on you because he is expected to do so. He has never forgotten that you are Lily's child, Harry. And if there is one thing you can be certain about, it is that he would never hate you as long as you are Lily's child. He loved his only best friend too much to ever resent her son, especially with how much it was known that Lily adored you."

Something about the way the professor said it had Harry's mind speculating more about his father and potions professor's rivalry when it came to his mother but he didn't dare ask about the matter. He was fairly sure McGonagall would not answer.

Silence descended between them, not uncomfortable but not quite pleasant either. McGonagall broke it.

"You are a talented student, Harry. I don't wish to lose you. It's never easy to accept for a teacher that she loses a student, no matter the circumstances. You can really do wondrous things if you apply yourself more to your studies. And I speak on behalf of your other teachers when I say we will regret not having to teach you if you leave. You are one of the promising students we have. You have much work to do on your theory side of the work, but practical work and embracing the magic you perform? You are one of the best.

Hogwarts can help you. And I promise to do a better job. We can make arrangements for you to leave whenever it is needed for you, and such. Would you consider trying again?"

Harry debated internally.

On one hand, he had to look after Sirius' health and his freedom. His "fishy tendencies" as the goblins and him now called it were also a cause for concern. Living in Hogwarts every day was a high risk, considering Hogwarts was home for children and teenagers who were often clumsy and rough. If one of his dorm mates even woke him up with Aguamenti just once, Harry's secret would be out within seconds.

But on the other hand, he really liked Hogwarts despite everything. The castle itself was something he felt weirdly connected to, what with its homey feel and its soothing magic. He would sorely miss it and its diverse inhabitants no matter what he said. And he did not want his new mer abilities to cause him to hide from others. He would not be able to enjoy his life that way, no matter how much of an introvert he was at heart and Harry wanted to live his life well, now that he had control over it.

And there was also the case of the rat. He would be with Ron in the castle if Harry could not get to him by the end of this summer. He had unfortunately promised Ron and his siblings that he would help them get their school supplies so that they could spend more time on their vacation as a family. (Mrs Weasley had owled the money over and mentioned casually in the letter to not spend outside the budget. Harry had the sense to not push on the sensitive matter despite wanting to help the Weasleys.) He had volunteered the help since he knew how much Mrs Weasley missed having all her family together at the same place. It had been an act of goodwill then but now, Harry regretted slightly that he could not contact Ron sooner. So now, the chances of him capturing the darn rat during the summer were slim.

"But what about Sirius?" he thought desperately.

Harry knew Sirius was not too terrible in his mental health that he would need Harry's constant presence every day. But a part of him also wanted to be there for his godfather and get to know the man better. And a tiny, tiny part of him was also afraid that somehow his time with Sirius had a time limit like most of all the happy incidents in his life, no matter how illogical the thought was in reality. Nobody knew Sirius was with him, and the goblins had already prepared all the necessary precautions as Harry had asked. He was worrying unnecessarily but he could not help it.

"Harry?"

Harry startled out of his train of thought.

"Oh, um" he cleared his throat. "Sorry Professor, I was thinking. Well, before I make my decision, you should know that as of now, my Healer wants me to come for daily reports." Harry refrained from specifying for how long the supposed "daily reports" would continue. "He's still running some tests and verifying the results while working on a possible antidote. That would mean that if I choose to come back, I will possibly not be staying at Hogwarts for the evening and night after the end of my lessons. I will need to be let back to Gringotts."

"Gringotts?" McGonagall asked, confused.

"Oh," Harry refrained from slapping his forehead. "Sorry, I forgot to make it clear. My Healers are not from St Mungos. Rather they are from Gringotts. I was not very comfortable with how people usually gawked at me rather than treating me normally. And the goblins are really nice and professional."

McGonagall nodded, though her brows did rise slightly at Harry's description of the goblins. Harry found himself feeling slightly annoyed that she was surprised before remembering that the goblins were never nice to other witches and wizards. So really, he couldn't blame her surprise.

"It is possible to have that arranged, as I mentioned."

"It may affect my Astronomy lessons, however."

McGonagall frowned. "That is unfortunate, but since this is your health matters, I suppose we'll have to forfeit the night lessons. We can make alternate arrangements, of course. Lunar charts and such can be used and I can have Aurora tell you what will be covered during the day time. It will require more effort on your part, however," McGonagall stated sternly.

Harry nodded. "I understand. I'll be more applied in my studies this year onwards. I –," Harry licked his lips, feeling uncomfortable at sharing the personal information, "Um, at the Dursleys, they didn't like it when I got better results than Dudley." Harry didn't dare look at his Professor. "So I've always made it a habit to not try during tests though I do study the material." He looked up to see McGonagall's lips were pursed and looked back down at his fingers, which were resting on his lap. "The habit stuck through when I came to the Wizarding World and by the time I realized you did not owl the Dursleys the end of the year results, well, the image stuck and I was not sure on how to break it."

"Has Mr Weasley's presence added to the uncertainty?"

Harry glanced up, cheeks heating up at having been caught. McGonagall sighed.

"I'm not pleased but I can't be angry at you either for it's not your fault. But I expect this to not continue anymore, Harry. You are to give your best, no matter who says what. And don't be afraid of Mr Weasley's reaction or even Miss Granger's if you happen to best her sometimes." At Harry's incredulous look, McGonagall smiled. "It's possible. There are students who are better than your female friend in certain subjects, though what makes Miss Granger often come out on top, is her ability to keep all her subjects at a high standard, even if they are not at the very top. Few manage that as well as her. Though please do advise her to not be too ambitious that she forgets her own health."

Harry nodded. He would do that even without McGonagall asking. He looked back at his Professor when he heard another sigh.

"Don't be afraid to lose friends in your life, Harry. It happens sometimes. Certain people who come into our lives may not stay for long, no matter how close they may have been. It's part of life. Instead of fearing that outcome and changing yourself to avoid it, be your own self and embrace those who stick around to accept you as you. Those who leave are simply not made to be a part of your life. It may hurt to have them leave, but take in whatever good things they may have taught you while you knew them and then focus back on those who still stayed with you. That's how you make the best of the relations that come into your life. And at the end of the day, Harry, it is _your_ life. Don't waste it away by playing to others' expectations. Live it to your happiness though do be a decent human while you're at it. Don't go making others miserable for your happiness. Now, that won't be right."

Harry gave a small smile at the speech. It was slightly embarrassing to have been given advice on life but Harry supposed he needed it.

"Thanks, Professor."

"You're welcome."

Harry twiddled with his thumbs. "I suppose, I was lying when I said I wasn't inclined to come back. I would miss a lot of things at Hogwarts. You would be one of the Professors I'll miss a lot," Harry confessed quietly.

McGonagall's eyes softened.

"I'm still not happy with Professor Snape's attitude, despite your clarifications, Ma'am. I'm sure professionalism can be an excuse for him if he needed to explain why he was neutral to students while at Hogwarts. Dumbledore can demand that from him. Whatever the reasons, I don't think his attitude is justified. Especially when it borders on bullying sometimes."

Harry sighed.

"But that aside, I still do wish to attend Hogwarts. I'll owl you the time I'm expected to reach my appointments. I'll try to come back to sleep at Hogwarts if possible but it's highly not likely. I'll inform you if I do come back so that I won't have to disturb anyone though."

McGonagall nodded. "That's reasonable I suppose."

"And also," Harry licked his lips. "I want to drop Divination."

At McGonagall's inquiring look, Harry elaborated. "I took it mostly because I followed Ron. I was never told of what the different subjects meant and how they may impact me or anything as I did not have much knowledge on the matter. But over the past few weeks, I've learnt Divination won't help me at all, considering I don't believe I have a lick of Seer-ness in me. And the theory aspects, I can learn myself if need be."

McGonagall nodded. "Alright. Students are allowed to change your electives within the first week of school starting if they do not find it suitable for them. Since you are telling me this earlier, it makes it even easier to change your subjects' combination. What would you like to replace it with?"

"I would like to take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy if you'll permit it. I know they are two subjects, not one but I really am interested in both. I've been reading up on them and it's really intriguing. Well Runes mostly, but I was advised that Arithmancy would act as a complementary subject to it. I'm willing to put in the effort. I promise."

McGonagall looked at him for a few moments, before giving a rare smile. "That's really good to hear, Mr Potter."

McGonagall conjured a parchment and quill, writing down a few things before handing the parchment over to Harry.

"I'm going to need you to sign this to give me a written request to change your electives. It's a formality," she explained. "You are really going to need to work hard if you want to achieve decent scorings in your exams, however. Don't forget that."

Harry nodded, giving a small smile in return. "I'll be giving my best, Professor."

"Well then, I suppose this draws us to the end of this meeting. I'm happy you are choosing to continue at Hogwarts. I'll see you on the first of September, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded, before remembering something important. "Wait! Professor I –," he rummaged in his satchel, missing McGonagall's inquiring look. Finding what he needed, Harry slid a small parchment towards her. "This is my permission slip for Hogsmeade trips. I was hoping if you were willing to be my accomplice in a prank against the Headmaster?" Harry asked innocently.

At McGonagall's deadpan expression, Harry continued, "It's harmless, really. He just won't be able to see whose signature is at the bottom of the page, which should make him frustrated."

McGonagall glanced at the slip in question. Her eyebrows rose. "Lord Greengrass? That's unexpected."

Harry shrugged. "Actually that's not the prank at all. I was hoping that you would lie if he requested for you to tell him whose name was at the bottom."

"And who exactly do you want me to say is your supposed guardian, Mr Potter?"

"Fluffy the Cerberus," Harry replied without batting an eye. That was seriously going to cause the old man some serious headache.

McGonagall rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Of all the things to joke about" but her lips quirked upwards just slightly.

"I'm really relying on your acting skills over here professor, and it'd be appreciated if you could get others into the prank to make it more believable," Harry stated, expressing an exaggerated solemness.

Shaking her head at him, the professor asked, "And just how long do you want this to last, Mr Potter?"

"Oh, I'll leave that to you, Professor. I'm sure you have your own frustrations with your old boss. Feel free to use my prank as an outlet for that unhappiness. In fact, tell that to anyone who helps you with the prank." Harry stated cheerfully.

McGonagall sighed.

"I hope for your own sake this pranking habit does not continue at Hogwarts, Mr Potter."

She stood, giving him a nod before heading to the door to exit the room.

"Oh and Mr Potter –"

Harry looked up to see his Professor facing him from where she stood one step away from the door. Her left hand was resting on the handle while her right held her wand.

"I hereby swear on my magic and life to never reveal the secrets of one Harry James Potter unless he gives his explicit permission to do so or unless it is to save him if the circumstance demands it. I swear this for whenever he chooses to reveal them to me. So I vow, so mote it be by magic's creed."

Harry watched in surprise as a golden glow encompassed him and his Professor.

"Professor I –"

"Whenever you feel comfortable, Harry, even if it such a time never happens," McGonagall interrupted him gently. "I can understand if it doesn't. But just so you know. I am willing to be there for you. I failed at it for the past two years due to my own faults. I promise it won't happen again."

And with that, Harry was left sitting alone in the room, his gut churning with guilt at the lies he had to tell his Professor despite the good reasons he had to do so.

But something inside him warmed as well, as he revelled in the care in his Professor's actions.

* * *

"How did your meetings go?"

"Relatively well," Harry answered Griphook, "I was surprised how well it went overall in the first one with _her. _The only thing that leaves me unhappy is the lies I had to tell in my second meeting with Professor McGonagall."

"Would you rather just tell her about your fish tendencies and about you harbouring a wanted criminal at your home?"

Harry looked away. "I know there are good reasons for the lies but it doesn't make it easier."

"Are you saying you've never lied before?" Griphook deadpanned.

Harry scoffed. "Of course I have, you twat. But most of the time, it was to people I didn't care about and for survival. This time, while it kind of still is about survival, well, I can't say Professor McGonagall is someone I don't care about. She's one of the nicer teachers I've had. It feels wrong to lie to her."

Griphook rolled his eyes. Harry shrugged. "Just saying."

"I can understand why you are feeling guilty but honestly, you have been moping about for the past hour, fish!"

"I do not mope!" Harry defended.

"Then what have you been doing, sighing at my office desk for the last sixty minutes?"

"Just admiring your office desk," Harry said with a straight face. "It's a really lovely desk. Very well polished."

Griphook raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I'll give you five seconds to get out of my office and cease disturbing me, fish."

"But – "

"Five."

"Grippyyyy!"

Griphook's arm twitched to his blade. "Four."

"I don't want to!"

"Three."

"You are evil."

"Thanks for the compliment. Two."

"Come on. I haven't satisfied my annoy-Griphook quota for the day yet! It's only been an hour!" Harry spoke hurriedly.

"One" Griphook grasped his blade, left eye twitching at the little wizard's nerve.

The Floo burst into flame, swallowing an emerald-eyed child as Griphook's hand relaxed and his face bore a smirk.

"Works every time," he thought.

* * *

Harry stared at the scene before his eyes, wondering again how this was his life.

"Stop it!" Harry shouted, making his way to where his yellow umbrella – the one that could belch snow instead of fire – was chasing after his godfather, belching snowballs at the man as the said man ran across the ceiling of the living room. Its fellow umbrellas seemed to be watching the show. Harry refused to think about how it was even possible for umbrellas to watch without eyes. "You're going to get him hurt! And what have I said about belching snow or fire or rain in my house?"

Harry shook his head as the umbrella skidded to a stop and hopped frantically from the room, following after its "friends" that had already abandoned it when Harry's voice rang across the room.

Why, oh why, did he buy those things?

Harry looked up from the ceiling, staring at his godfather. It took him a moment to realise the man was not smiling as he first believed. Since the man was upside down, Harry realised his "smile" was actually a frown.

"Sirius, why the hell do you have my 'no-gravity' shoes on? I told you not to touch anything!"

The man gave a whine, seemingly unable to talk. Harry noticed he was slightly green in the face too.

Not wanting to risk having the man hurl his lunch on him, Harry moved away, levitating a few cushions from the sofa under his godfather before shouting out, "Just say "shoes, off!" and you will come down!"

A thump and a groan later, he found himself helping his escaped godfather to his feet. "You better take those off now. They go back to normal after 60 seconds."

Harry stifled a smile as he watched Sirius scrambling to untie the laces, conveniently forgetting to mention the part that the shoes turned back to normal after 60 seconds of the wearer saying "Shoes, on".

"Ah, the entertainment you get from a good prank," he thought.

* * *

Harry set the honey tea in front of Sirius, rolling his eyes at the man's wariness of it.

"Relax, it's not drugged."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "It's difficult to believe that, considering it's coming from you, pup."

Harry shrugged. "You deserved it the last time, Sirius."

"I did not!"

"You did. You were about to run off with a half-cooked plan."

Sirius looked away. "I can't stay here with you freely without getting my name cleared pup. I'm going to have to hide sooner or later if somebody comes to visit you."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"For your information, Sirius Orion Black," Harry ignored Sirius' deadpan expression at him mimicking a parental tone, "This house's location and its inhabitants can only be disclosed by me to others. The only reason you were able to see it was because I may have invited you over unknowingly in your animagus form. You were not even supposed to have been able to find me, but I didn't realize that strong family bonds would still manage it," Harry stated.

"Anyways, the goblins have attached new wards to counter that loophole along with precautions against other animagus about a good ten hours before you were moved back into my home. And as for visitors, well I don't plan on anyone – and I mean ANYONE – finding out where I live, no matter who they may be. Even close friends are forbidden. So you don't need to worry about hiding. In fact, this place is the best place for you to recover without fearing the Ministry finding you."

Sirius did not look pleased by the explanation. Harry sighed.

"You can't go looking for the rat."

Sirius looked indignant. "Why not?"

"It's too risky for you. The entire wizarding world is on the lookout for you. And you'll have to rely on Padfoot to get into Hogwarts, which would make it even more difficult for you to capture the rat, considering you can't cast spells while in your Animagus form." Seeing Sirius' red face, Harry knew he hit the man's plans spot on. "It's too risky for you, Sirius. There's a dementor's kiss on sight order on your head. Do you really want to risk that? Risk losing your soul and letting the rat roam free for revenge?"

Sirius looked away. Harry wondered slightly if him having this conversation with Sirius was a good idea. He was no therapist and these were delicate matters. But he could not stop now that they were already talking about it.

"Is this to do with you thinking it is your fault my parents were murdered?"

Sirius whirled back to look at him, eyes wide and damp.

"Yes!" he yelled, voice raw with pain. "I don't think it pup. I know it! I made them switch keepers. I trusted Peter when I knew there was a spy amongst our group and was never sure who it was! I had as good as sold them to the Dark Lord! I killed them in the end with my stupid insistence on my brilliant plan to keep them safe!"

Harry looked at his panting godfather, sensing the slight increase of magic surrounding the man as his magic responded to his grief.

"Look me in the eye and say it."

"What?" Sirius looked confused.

"That you killed my parents. Look me in the eye and say it. You've been avoiding my gaze."

"I...I k– kil–"

"Come on Sirius." Harry cut in sharply. "Look me in the eye and say it!"

Sirius looked away again.

"You don't believe in it Sirius. You don't truly believe you killed them. You can't. You said it yourself last night. You would rather die than kill them."

"But I –"

"You trusted in the wrong person, just like my parents," Harry interrupted. "You trusted in a friend you knew and so did my parents. They trusted Peter just as much as you did. They would not have let him be the keeper otherwise, Sirius. If you killed them by letting Peter be the keeper, they killed themselves by doing the same thing."

Sirius looked away once more.

"You know it's not your fault that Peter betrayed them. Betrayed you. Stop saying you killed them because you feel guilty for not protecting them better. Guilty that you trusted in the wrong person. You did what you thought best to protect them. Besides, if your way of thinking meant you are the reason why my parents got killed, it means I would be the main culprit for my parents' death."

Sirius' head swivelled up with too much force, his face expressing horror at the thought. "What? No! Harry!?"

"You said it yourself yesterday. Voldemort was after me due to some prophecy. My parents were probably just an inconvenience to him. The reason they were killed was due to my being born and being a target of the evil git. So that would mean I got them killed by being born, Sirius. Do you believe in that?"

"No! Harry! That's stupid!" Sirius crossed the space between them, pulling his godson into a fierce hug. Harry stilled, not expecting the sudden physical contact. Sirius did not seem to notice. "They loved you. They would never have thought that. It's Voldemort's fault, not yours. He killed them! Not you! Your parents loved you to death, pup! Don't ever think that!"

Sirius seemed to have gone into a panic at Harry's words.

"Lily and James had never been happier than when you had been born! Even when it was during the midst of the war and even when they knew Voldemort was after you, they never let anything dampen their joy at having you! Yes, it caused them to be paranoid over your safety but all they could ever think about was you! They would put themselves in front of a hundred Dark Lords if it meant keeping you safe pup! It's not your fault!"

Harry was not sure if he was to slap his head at his godfather's disability to apply the same logic for his own person or to feel touched at his care.

"Why don't you believe that the same applies to you?"

"What?"

"That my parents' deaths were not your fault but Voldemort's and Pettigrew's?"

"I – "

"Do you really think my parents would blame you for what happened, Sirius?"

Silence filled the room. Harry waited, sensing such matters could not be rushed.

Sirius sighed, somewhat defeatedly.

"No. I know, logically, pup, that I'm not at fault." His voice cracked. "I know that James would prank me endlessly for the guilt I'm feeling if he were still alive. And Lily would probably whack me in the head with that especially thick Charm's tome she owns," Sirius let out a choked sob, "I'm sorry, pup. But every single time I just kept watching their cold bodies in my mind and I was always there, unable to do a single thing to help. It was the same thing over and over again. And I was so useless!"

It took Harry a few moments to realize that this was what Sirius had experienced under the dementors.

"Over and over again. Useless. And at the end of the day, I kept thinking, it wouldn't have happened if I had just chosen to be the Secret Keeper. So what if Voldemort would have hah easily known who was the Potter's true Keeper? At least Lily, James and you would have been safe!"

Harry sighed, drawing his arms up to return Sirius' hug.

"Well, let me tell you this. You are being stupid. Sirius, it's Pettigrew's fault Voldemort managed to find me and my parents because _he_ decided to give up the secret to them. And then it was Voldemort's fault that my parents are dead. _He _chose to kill them. _He_ committed the act. You did not do it."

Harry looked up to meet his godfather's tear-streaked face. "My parents won't ever blame you for it." Harry paused, wondering if the next part would help at all, considering he was not close to the man. "I don't blame you, I never have. Not even when everyone told me to the first time I heard about your supposed betrayal. So stop blaming yourself. Please."

Harry rested his head onto his godfather's chest, tightening his arms around him and feeling a spark of warmth when the gesture was reciprocated.

"I've missed your presence for twelve years. I don't want to keep missing it anymore. I want to spend time with my godfather. And I want you healthy and happy while you do it.

You won't manage that if you don't try to recover or if you run after rats when it's too risky, Sirius. I promise to catch the rat, without putting myself at risk. I promise to get you your freedom, Sirius.

I can do it. I have all the means to do it without getting into trouble or harm. But you have to trust me, first. Please just trust me on this, Padfoot. I won't let you down," Harry tightened his arms again. "Not like the others. I promise."

He missed how Sirius closed his eyes at the words and how tears poured down the man's face. But the returned tightening of arms around him told him what he needed to know.

"Ok pup," the man whispered hoarsely. "I'll trust you on this decision."

The two remained in that position for a while longer, taking comfort in the presence of the other in that vulnerable moment, each unknowingly promising to take care of the other in their hearts.

* * *

Harry avoided the betrayed look Sirius was shooting him, as he shouted a hurried "Good luck!" at the man before flooing away to Griphook's office.

"I can't believe you sent Fradgrot over!" he exclaimed to his account manager, once he managed to catch his footing. The horror was still etched onto his face.

The goblin in question gave an innocent grin. "What's wrong with Fradgrot, fish? He's the best on Occlumency and also a trained healer amongst us goblins on human health too. He'd also be able to help you with your lessons."

Harry stared at his first goblin friend. "You did it on purpose, you evil creature!"

Griphook smiled once more. "Prove it."

Harry glared at the goblin. "I'm going to set Lady Akigla on you," he muttered.

Griphook narrowed his eyes, scoffing. "You haven't even gone to speak to her Highness since the moon spell incident, fish."

Harry reddened as he remembered said incident, which Griphook picked up on. Unfortunately for him, the goblin seemed to be a genius in figuring him out even with Occlumency shields in place.

"You remembered, did you not?" Griphook asked, a smirk forming on his face.

Realizing he was in for relentless teasing now that he did not have the cover of having been under spell, Harry did what any sensible person with a lick of self-preservation for their dignity would do. He turned and ran out the door, cringing at Griphook's deep laughter that followed his departure. It sounded like a cackle to his overactive imagination.

Honestly, why did all his embarrassing moments have the evil twat as a witness?

* * *

Harry let out a deep breath.

"Alright," he thought. "I can do this. The key is to have control, like Griphook mentioned. I must focus on controlling my own emotions. Discipline is key."

With that, Harry drew his Occlumency shields to the maximum, raised his arm in preparation and –

Opened the door of the peculiar shop that stole his heart a few days ago.

Chanting "no buying anything except what I came for" over and over in his brain, the little wizard walked up to the quirky old lady he had befriended.

"Hello Auntie Lyria!"

The old woman, now dressed in orange-black robes and decorated with accessories that seemed to have a theme of skulls, roses and ice-creams looked up from where she was reading a book, evidently having ignored the chime of the bell when Harry entered the shop. Her silver-blue hair was done in an elaborate bun with a long polished stick holding the hairdo in place. It took Harry a moment to register that the stick was actually her wand.

"Harrison! How lovely of you to come back! How have the rascals been behaving?"

Harry didn't bat an eye at the old woman's way of addressing the animated furniture he had bought. "Like the rascals they are, ma'am. Sometimes I have to eat my snacks seated on the gravity-less tables and chairs installed on my ceiling to avoid their running about."

Lyria chuckled.

"I also had my godfather over recently. He had a wonderful time getting acquainted with the snow belching umbrella and the gravity-less shoes," Harry informed with a snicker, thinking over what poor Sirius had been through.

Lyria shared his amusement, understanding what must have happened. "Well, what can I do for you today, lad?"

"I was wondering if you had something here that could fulfil a need of mine. Or if you could customize the item for me."

Lyria raised her eyebrow, swinging her legs from where she was perched on her table.

"I need a cage that can grow with its inhabitant's size. It needs to be unbreakable and impervious to outside magic except for mine. It also needs to disable whoever is stuck inside from doing magic, unless that person is me."

Lyria's expression grew serious. "You want to capture someone lad? Will this involve someone getting hurt?"

Harry knew the woman was one who would never use magic and her talents to harm others. Most of her products, no matter how crazy and dangerous they seemed, were truthfully layered with runes to never attack its owners in a way that caused harm. So far most of his umbrellas had only chased him and serious when they were getting playful. And they would always stop when Harry demanded. He had yet to key Sirius into the animated furniture's "obeying system". He wanted to enjoy his entertainment for a while longer before he gave Sirius the ability to stop his rowdy furniture.

"I can't guarantee it. But who I plan to catch is a traitor. A traitor whose betrayal has been keeping me from spending time with the one direct family member I have left by magic's creed. I've recently gotten information that the traitor is well," Harry hesitated, unsure if he was revealing too much. "Well, the traitor is an animagus. And I have the information on his whereabouts. I have the backup I need to capture the man but no means to keep him captive from his elusive form. That's why I need that cage. And I only know you when it comes to making unconventional but useful and powerful things." Harry looked at the lady in the eye. "I'm willing to give you a wizard's oath to promise I won't harm him unless I am left with no choice. But I can't guarantee no harm will happen considering the complexity of the situation."

Harry searched the woman's eyes, looking to see if she would agree. "Please. I need to bring the traitor to justice or I'll never be able to spend time with the only family I have left unless I were to hide them. And I promised I would help get them their freedom."

Lyria was silent, staring at the wizard child in front of her for a long while before she answered. "Alright. I'll trust you on this, little lad. I can get it done to perfection in three days, though it may require a drop of your blood after completion to sync it to your magic's will."

Harry nodded. Against his nature, he went and gave the woman a small hug.

"Thank you," he said, letting his gratitude shine in his eyes. "This means a lot."

The old lady gave his head a small pat. "Nothing to it, lad. Now, do you want to purchase anything today?"

Harry gulped, strengthening his Occlumency shield and repeating his new mantra in his head.

_"No buying anything unless you need it. No buying anything unless you need it. No buying anything unless you absolutely need it."_

A mischievous gleam entered the old woman's eyes. "I have a new line of products…" she trailed off.

Harry cursed internally.

* * *

Harry Potter sighed in defeat as landed on his butt in the middle of his living room. He felt the treacherous weight of his new purchases weigh him down in his left pocket. Oh, how his own will betrayed him. He sighed once more.

A snicker had him glaring at his new housemate.

"Git," he muttered.

Sirius, unrepentant shot back that he deserved it for leaving him alone with the meanest goblin he had ever met. Harry smirked, rising back onto his feet.

"So how was the therapy session?" he asked, bent on irking the man.

"Horrible," Sirius shuddered. "The little green monster is evil."

Harry's smirk grew. "Maybe I should invite him over more then."

Sirius gave him the stink eye, "Don't you dare pup! An hour and a half per two days until you leave for Hogwarts! After that, it would be a whole half a day for every weekday until you came back home in the afternoon from school. You promised!" Sirius paused. "Also you've got to tell me how you got old Minnie to let you leave school like that!"

Harry shrugged, deciding that the latter part may not be the best thing to reveal to Sirius yet considering it would entail him retelling his second year's adventure. "That's for me to know and you to never find you. And I really don't know Sirius..." Harry trailed off with a smirk, purposefully not revealing his own trepidation at Fradgrot's teaching. "I never did say I would not invite goblins over occasionally. When I said nobody was going to know about my location it didn't cover the goblins. They already knew since before you came."

It was true. Griphook had demanded to know where he lived after he had taken off once his meeting with Dumbledore had ended. The surly goblin had lectured Harry about his disappearing act until Harry had begged for him to stop, promising that he would not repeat the act. It had been touching again to have seen the goblin's care. And Harry often wondered how, if the Wizarding World was not so prejudiced, those amazing creatures could have helped so much in the magical world's growth. Some of the goblins' works on healing and warding were simply more advanced and efficient than what wizards and witches had created.

Sirius gasped in mock horror, placing a hand on his chest in exaggerated disbelief before shouting "You little conniving liar!"

Then the man was launching himself at Harry, tickling the little wizard mercilessly.

Harry flinched slightly, startled by the unexpected contact before melting into hysterical giggles, missing the realization that dawned on Sirius' face. It was soon followed by a pang of sadness that was masked immediately as Sirius continued tickling his godson.

"What do you say, pup?"

"Can't breathe!" Harry choked out, tears forming in his eyes at having laughed too hard.

"Will you apologize to your poor, poor godfather for your deceit?" Sirius asked in mock seriousness, not ceasing his tickling torture.

"Yes! Yes!" Harry wheezed.

Sirius stopped, looking at Harry with a solemn and expectant look that was way too exaggerated. "Well?"

Harry, still bent over his stomach, took in deep gulps of air, steadying his breathing before straightening to meet Sirius' gaze with an equally serious look.

"I apologize, dearest godfather that I deceived thou," Harry started in a regretful expression, "And that thou were dumb enough to fall for it."

Harry took off running before Sirius could process his words. He let out another bout of laughter as he heard Sirius shout an indignant "Hey!" a moment later.

Perhaps he did not have to worry so much on bonding with Sirius after all.

* * *

**A/N: Oooh the purposeful delaying. Who do yall think '**_she' _**is? I think some of yall may have already guessed it correctly.**

**And what do yall think of Harry and Sirius' budding godfather - godson bonding? I was torn between making Sirius slightly insane but I think the man was never insane even in the books and movie. Just extremely depressed by the Dementors' presence and the betrayal's he went through. Plus his knowledge of his innocence, his need to protect Harry, avenge his best friends' murders and (my personally strong belief in) Sirius' will power probably means that Sirius had yet to cross the line between sane and insane. Honestly, have you seen how the guy is in the book? (I was so devastated when he died in the book. I get it JK, the plot needs to go on and the fifth book was just great but still...)**

**Also, about Harry's return to Hogwarts. What do yall think about it? Should he stay the whole year? Or leave when it gets too risky to stay? I know some of yall wanted him to stay away but I think Harry has still some things to discover through Hogwarts before he can even stop going back. Some prank heirlooms, convenient rooms and still-to-be-made-friendships and such ... are you guys catching my drift?**

**Anyways, hope yall found this chapter interesting. Thanks for still sticking with the story and all the support!**


	11. Can't think of a name for this chapter

The tenth of August dawned bright and sunny. The thirteen-year-old Boy-Who-Lived smiled with his eyes still closed as he felt the warm rays of the sun reach him from where he lay cocooned within heaps of blankets, indulging in a sleep-in.

He would never regret having the goblins send renovators to make his room have big, wide windows. Never.

Stretching his arms over his head and sitting up, Harry Potter opened his eyes to be greeted with the view of sunlight peeking through the line of trees right outside his window. He could distinctly hear the sound of the wood creatures – both magical and non-magical – stirring to welcome another day.

Sitting on his bed, enjoying the moment for a while longer, the emerald-eyed teen let his mind drift to how his life was for the past ten days.

Sirius was definitely getting better with each day. Recently enough the goblin Healers had given him the green signal to slowly start doing mundane chores and such since his strength was back to normal. Sirius had bargained with him for hours on end to take over all the house chores immediately. Harry had not liked that. He had in the end, with the goblins' persuasion given up breakfast and washing duties to Sirius. While it was honestly a relief (he didn't have to worry about sprouting a tail in front of Sirius – Harry doubted the experience would go well considering the average witch and wizard's scepticism and distrust at creature-blooded magicals), Harry was still not sure on how he felt on sharing the chores with the man. It was heartening that the man cared about Harry's well-being but for some reason, Harry was worried about Sirius' health despite the goblins' reassurances.

But other than that, the past days had certainly triumphed as some of the best days Harry had had in his entire life, topping even the moment he was free from the Dursleys. It was certainly different to share a house with another person who genuinely cared about him and Sirius was, on the whole, an amazing presence to live with. The man had countless stories to tell about Harry's parents and his own time at Hogwarts.

He had yet to fully trust the man - it was hard to trust an adult completely yet. And the man was a stranger despite being his godfather. But Harry had the feeling that won't be a problem in a few weeks, considering the rate at which things were going. Sirius really was a much better person to share his house with than anybody else.

Harry threw back his sheets, calling on his magic for a quick tempus.

_Half-past seven. _

He had time for a swim before he had to come back for breakfast when Sirius woke up.

His eyes briefly glanced towards the nightstand near his bed, where his wand lay innocently. Seeking advice from Fradgrot as to why his magic was suddenly more difficult to cast with a wand was also something he had to add to his agenda for today. He had only recently discovered the problem. He had just finished revising all his first and second years' spells and hexes the previous night. Only after he had successfully mastered the last spell did his brain finally register the fact that he had revised all the spells wandlessly. He had not been overly concerned at first. If he could perform them wandlessly, wand magic should have been easier, right?

Wrong.

Sweating to lift a quill from his study table had him realising he really had a problem at hand. If he went back to Hogwarts in that state, he would have to answer more questions that he liked.

Heading to the bathroom to attend to his morning routines, the boy wizard wondered absently if he should have renovators change his bathtub to a pool. Swimming in a pool with a drain would certainly be much easier than trying to get in and get out of a bathtub with his tail. It may look light but the thing sure weighed a ton.

* * *

He let out a whoop as he was dragged along with the warm ocean current. The water rushed past him, lifting his hair and blurring the scenery beyond the tunnel of fast-moving waters.

A lazy flap of his tail boosted him along the ride. He let out another cry, giggling as numerous bubbles erupted in front of his face while he was carried further forward. A bale of turtles startled at his presence as he swept past them.

_"Hello, sea friends!"_ Harry flicked his tail, regaining control over himself as he chose to acquaint with the sea reptiles rather than being mindlessly tugged about the sea.

A curious hatchling swam forward clumsily to butt head with his nose. Harry smiled, gently grabbing it by its fins before twirling himself about on the spot, pulling the hatchling with him into the gentle spin. Laughing silently he asked mentally, _"And who might you be little one?"_

Amusement and joy flowed through Harry from the various links that surrounded him, especially from the tiny purple link between him and the hatchling. He also sensed a few of the older turtles having a sense of worry and caution at seeing him twirl the hatchling despite their amusement.

Harry stopped his spinning and guided the little creature back to the shell of a bigger turtle.

_He is Dearg._ A raspy voice whispered across Harry's mind. He swirled around to meet a very old turtle gliding lethargically to come face to face with him. _And who are you, stranger? You are but a hatchling yourself. Where is your sire?_

Harry poked the chin of the ancient turtle curiously, wondering how it felt smooth despite the old age of the skin. _"My sire passed a long time ago, friend. As did my mother."_ Harry swam a circle around the old creature. _"I am Harry as humans have named me. What is your name?" _

The old turtle swiped a fin over Harry's head playfully. _Silly hatchling. Slow down. My name has long been lost to the sea. You may address me__Vovô like how the others call me._

Harry pouted at how the old one addressed him but complied with swimming at a slower pace as he fooled about with the friendly turtles, showing off his water powers to the little ones whenever they showed him a cool move in return.

* * *

Harry swam down to the bottom of the seafloor, sticking out his tongue to the beautiful creature behind him.

_"I won, silly."_ He exclaimed, dodging the swipe of the tail that came his way. _"Don't be a spoilsport. I won fair and square!"_

The dolphin he was teasing butted its head onto his chest gently. _Alright, alright. Have you found what you are looking for, calf?_

Rolling his eyes at how all sea creatures seemed to see him a baby creature, Harry pointed to a crystal-like object a few tail flaps away from him. _"Yes."_

He glided over with his dolphin friend, picking the object up and brushing a few sand particles that still clung to it.

_What is is? _

_"A type of flower. It's called a Lily."_ Harry replied, admiring the little sculpture.

The dolphin gave an enquiring click. _No flower I've seen has ever been so rigid, calf. Are you certain?_

Harry giggled. _"This is not real, silly. It is simply a mimic of what this type of flower looks like above land."_

Harry received another butt to his chest. _You should have explained, little calve. I do not know much about the ways of land dwellers._

The dolphin swam around the little boy wizard. _What are you going to do with this curious flower?_

_"Gift it,"_ Harry replied with a smile. "_I have someone I need to visit. Hopefully, I can be friends with them."_

A distant whistle caught the attention of both the boy and the dolphin.

_I must go, little calf. The pod is calling. Have a good time visiting your mystery acquaintance!_

Harry waved his sea friend goodbye. He took a last look at the sculpture he clutched before swimming to the surface of the moon pool.

He would practice his powers a short while before he went back home to check on Sirius.

* * *

Harry stared at the water sphere before him, feeling his connection with it waver. But despite the unsteady connection, he could not help the smile that danced across his lips.

Both his hands were at his side, yet the water had obeyed his command.

_Five, six, seven, eight, nine, –_

The sphere fell back into the water with a dull splash.

Harry gave a slightly disappointed sigh before raising his hand to command a new sphere before him to do what he did before attempting to control the water without a gesture. His smile came back as he felt his magic hum as it connected completely to the water. He played with the sphere, changing its shape and size with an ease he certainly did not have a few weeks before.

Happiness and pride washed over his entire being, brightening his smile ten times more as the fact was replayed in his mind, over and over again.

_He had mastered his power over the liquid form of water. _

His magic hummed along with him in joy. The feeling was just as he remembered from the moon pool. Absolute rightness.

"One down. Three more to go," he muttered to himself.

Changing his hand gesture, he willed the water to start to freeze, his mind moving to focus back on his goals despite only having mastered his first power a few minutes ago.

Better now than later to master all three powers. He could celebrate later.

* * *

In a hidden island, on the porch of a lovely cottage, a man stood looking around the woods surrounding the new home he had found.

He was dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and pants, both layered with automatic heat charms that kept him warm while he stood breathing in the cool morning breeze. He had just woken up to find himself in an empty house. If the circumstances had been different, the man knew he would have been in an all-out panic by the time he even suspected the house was missing its other inhabitant. But the reality remained that he was a wanted convict who had to lay low and that the other inhabitant of the house was used to such early-morning mystery routines. And his twelve-year absence from said other inhabitant's life meant he was not in a position to intrude in said mystery routines. If the kid had been doing it for weeks, who was he to barge into the kid's life suddenly and tell him to stop just because he was worried? Who was he to worry when he had been absent for twelve years?

Sirius Black sighed.

He was glad that his pup was too kind to ask such questions to his face, even if such questions whirled about in his mind without anybody asking them. In fact, his pup (despite having been disappointed at Sirius initially for abandoning him when he was a toddler when Sirius was recounting what had happened that fateful night) had been quite understanding of what Sirius had gone through when he lost two of the most important people in his life. But Sirius really could not forgive himself yet, now that he was in a much clearer state of mind.

The escaped convict leaned onto the railing of the porch he stood on.

He was not upset, not truly.

He knew his own actions were the reason why he was in such a position despite being a godfather. Plus in the past few days of living with his godson, he had realised that the boy was as independent as they came. From taking care of his own chores to making breakfast for his recovering godfather, the boy seemed an expert in doing things by himself efficiently.

What bothered Sirius was how the independence was showing in his godson at such a young age. And it was the fact that this obviously wasn't the kind that came with growing up over the years when children gradually matured with time and age. But rather this kind of independence screamed that his godson had been taking care of himself for years, from a young age.

Sirius did not like the implications those observations pointed to. He did not like the thought that his godson had learned to cook from since he was a little thing. It only meant one thing – Harry did not have a good childhood.

Sirius knew the signs all too well. He himself had been abused before after all. If the unnatural independence in the barely-a-teenager boy had not given the fact away, the slight flinch or stiffening whenever he touched the boy was a blunt indication. That along with how Harry had managed to evade every single question regarding his childhood whenever Sirius tried to ask about it – it was the same way Sirius avoided talking about his childhood. The only fact Sirius knew so far was that Harry had only recently moved to live by himself – the newness of their home along with Harry's own reluctant admission had been how Sirius knew this fact.

Sirius sighed again as he felt the breeze blowback his long hair gently. He could faintly hear the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks from where he stood. He idly wondered if his godson had gone swimming in the sea or was simply exploring the woods. The man refused to think about which was considered more dangerous. He really could do nothing as of now on the situation. He wished his pup were back at home, where Sirius could see him and know he was safe.

Sirius eyed the sight of never-ending greenery around him, taking in the calmness of the environment. So unlike what was happening within his head.

It had been like a bucket of ice water over his head when he first realized his godson was a victim of abuse. Even the dementors' effects could be described as mild when Sirius had first had the guilt and regret crash over his being at the realization. He had been so grief-stricken and angry over the death of his best friend and his wife that he had recklessly ran after the vermin who had caused it all. And in that recklessness, he had abandoned the one person who had needed him more than anything else – his orphaned godson. In a way, Sirius thought, he had done the utmost betrayal to Harry that night he had handed him over to Rubeus Hagrid. He had trusted Dumbledore to watch over his godson instead of doing what Lily and James had tasked him to do. He had let down Harry to go after the traitor. That had been the biggest mistake Sirius did in his entire life. Trusting Peter had been the second biggest one.

Sirius closed his eyes.

He supposed he should be grateful for all their effects, the dementors' had not managed to take away his sanity. Living with depressing thoughts for company had not been new to Sirius but he was truly glad he was not lost to insanity due to that place. It would have killed all the possibilities of him escaping and having a second chance with Harry.

Sirius opened his eyes, determination gleaming in them.

No more. He would not fail Harry again. It had pained him to accept Harry's request of not going after the rat. But when those smaller arms had wrapped around him in the first hug his godson had ever given him in twelve years and when he had been able to feel the slight trembling in Harry's body, Sirius had realized how much his godson had needed him to stay with him. It had been painful. The rat had taken everything from him and he badly wanted to see the traitor suffer. But his pup's need came before everything else. It should have always had come before everything else. Sirius was realizing it too late, but he was determined to set things right. The rat could wait. That traitor would get his dues in time. But for now, Sirius would be doing what he was supposed to have done twelve years back on the day the Potters were murdered. He would be Harry Potter's godfather. He would take care of Harry.

And he certainly was never going to trust others with his godson's safety. Especially not Albus Dumbledore, Sirius thought bitterly. The man who had not lifted a finger to help those who had fought at his side of the war faithfully. It was funny how enlightening the guards and inmates of Azkaban were with their theories and gossips and demented mutterings. One learnt many things. From how even the most foulest Death Eater had been given trials, how some were even let off with full pardon, to even how people had just believed his "Black-blood" had finally shown itself as the explanation as to why no one gave him even the benefit of the doubt. It had made his "Black-blood", as they referred to it, boil that last one. What did those fickle sheep know about his and James' friendship? What did they know on how much Sirius loved the Potter family for accepting him that he would kill and die for them? Sheep they all were. Fickle-minded sheep.

A distant laugh brought the escaped convict from his thoughts. He watched as his little charge emerged from the bushes, a snowy owl perched on his shoulder. A glass-like sculpture was clutched in his hands. Sirius could not make out what it was, but he dismissed it as his eyes soon flitted back to his godson's laughing face.

He had truthfully expected to see a mini version of James with Lily's beautiful eyes when he had stumbled through the woods, following the magical bond between him and his godson. His expectation had not been fully thwarted but it sure had been a surprise to see the sheen of familiar red amongst the nest of messy jet black hair. It had not been there before when Harry had been a toddler and seeing it for the first time when the light had hit Harry's head had been a shock – a pleasant shock. It was good to see them both in Harry. Though Sirius knew Harry was his own person and was never going to be Lily or James, seeing bits of both of them in Harry made him happy that not all of them were gone forever.

A rumbling sound brought Sirius back to reality. His eyes widened.

"What the –" the man did not finish the thought as his charge interrupted him.

"Sirius! You're awake!"

Sirius stared at his godson for a moment before protective instincts kicked in prompting his legs to make way towards the direction where the emerald-eye teen was.

"Harry run!" he shouted.

The escaped convict cursed the fact that he had yet to get hold of a wand. "Ah well, Padfoot can do more damage than even hexes," he thought as he drew in his magic to change into his animagus form.

The goblins did advise him to not use magic until they gave the green signal.

But Sirius was sure they did not mean it applied to emergency situations.

Like when a troll stood behind his godson.

"Harry, run NOW!"

He was ten feet away when a flash of understanding seemed to cross his pup's face.

Really, of all day's for Harry to be slow, this was not the day.

"Oh Sirius, _Mamjll_ is a friend!"

The troll was right behind him, for Merlin's sak – What?!

Sirius skidded to a halt, one foot away from his godson. His arms went around the smaller shoulders instinctively and he pulled the boy behind him.

"Come again, pup?"

He could feel the teenager roll his eyes, even without seeing it.

"He's a friend, Sirius. You can let me go now."

Sirius eyed the seven feet creature suspiciously.

"Pup, are you sure? Trolls are not really known to be friendly." Sirius wondered if they could both inch away from the creature now. It did not seem to be thinking of striking either of them yet, despite being close.

"Watch what you are saying. I've been teaching him how to converse in English for the past couple of weeks and he's a fast learner."

Indeed the troll seemed to have an affronted look to its face.

"Right…" Sirius looked over his shoulder to give his godson an inquiring look. Frankly, if the troll was no danger, he had no idea what to do. He for certain had never met one in his life.

This time, Sirius got to see the eye roll his godson gave him.

"Let me go, Paddy," the kid wriggled out of his grip and went over to the troll to give it a hug. Sirius had to hide a wince at how the return hug from the troll gave him anxiety. A small thing like his pup could be crushed in those troll arms.

He grabbed his godson back as soon as the troll released him.

"Honestly he was just keeping me company, Sirius."

Sirius shrugged, unable to really say anything as his mind registered the peculiar experience he was currently experiencing. His godson just hugged a troll. Willingly.

His godson waved goodbye at the green creature. A beat later, said creature knelt on a knee, bowing till its forehead touched the ground before standing and giving Sirius a brief nod of its head.

Then it disappeared between the trees.

Sirius blinked.

"Well, that was interesting."

He turned to inspect his pup, eyes roaming over to check for any obvious injury.

"I'm fine, Sirius. Trust me. _Mamjll_ is very soft-hearted. He wouldn't harm me and he's herbivores since he is a forest-troll. Plus I'm his friend."

Sirius sighed. He sure had not been expecting this when he settled down to live with Harry.

"Next time, warn a man before you do such things pup. I nearly aged twenty more years."

He received a pat on his arm. "Don't worry, Sirius. You still look not a day past eighty-two."

Sirius scowled. "Hey!"

His godson's laughter filled the clearing.

Sirius smiled, the sound igniting a warmth within him. A warmth he had not experienced in twelve years. He let out a breath, now that the adrenaline at seeing a troll in the flesh had died down within him.

"Well, then. Good morning to you, pup. Exciting things aside, I was about to start on breakfast in a few minutes."

"Are you sure that's – "

"It'll be fine, pup. This old dog still knows how to work the stove decently," Sirius joked as he and Harry made their way back to the cottage. "You go and get changed if you need. I'll have breakfast ready for you." Seeing Harry's hesitant face, he continued. "I want to do it for you, Harry."

Sirius chose not to comment on how brightly Harry's face lit up at the fact that Sirius was willing to do something for him. He shoved away the painful thought that no one had done it for Harry before since Lily and James died.

The man sighed softly as he pulled the boy beside him to his side just a little bit more as they walked.

It was barely past a week since he had started living with Harry and he had only managed to take over breakfast and washing duties a few days ago. The goblin healers had been especially helpful in convincing his stubborn godson in the matter, stating that it would do Sirius good to be doing such mundane things to emphasize how he had truly escaped Azkaban and was free – somewhat. None mentioned the part where Sirius had demanded to know if his suspicions were correct on Harry's previous home life. He had gotten the impression Harry was closer to the goblins than anybody knew and the goblin healers' silence had been telling in itself to both sets of his suspicions. If he had pleaded with them to convince Harry to let him at least cook and clean the dishes for his godson, it was a secret Sirius was going to take to the grave. He was pretty sure the goblins would not bother to tell anyone.

Sirius made his way back into the house, chuckling at how the boy was almost skipping to his room.

In his heart, the determination to keep his godson smiling hardened. He was never going to abandon his pup ever again.

* * *

Harry suppressed a snicker as he watched Sirius burn the eggs for the third time.

"Are you sure you don't need help, Padfoot?"

The glare he got in answer only increased the chances of his laughter escaping from him.

"_I_ do the breakfast. It was a deal, pup. I'm still not happy you are cooking lunch and dinner, so don't push it."

Harry leaned on the kitchen counter, unable to resist such an open invitation to push Sirius' buttons.

"Well, considering how breakfast is burning I think I made the right decision, Paddy. We wouldn't want to starve all day now would we?"

Harry snickered again at Sirius' indignant look. "I cook fine, pup! It's just the eggs that give me a problem."

The toaster let out a chime in response, giving a clear warning the bread was in the danger of burning if left in it any longer. Sirius scrambled to take it out. Harry simply could not hold in his amusement any longer. He burst into peals of laughter.

Sirius shot him a nasty glare, though the slight upward quirk of his mouth belied his anger. "Stop laughing at me, pup. And eat your breakfast."

Harry took a look at the plate that was handed to him, containing two slices of toast, two sausages, a muffin and a sunny side up.

"Wow, none of it is burnt. I'm impressed. Also, when did you make muffins?"

Sirius rolled his eyes at his godson's teasing before replying.

"I already put them in the oven before you came back. Forgot to mention them when I told you I was starting breakfast," he said sheepishly. But his expression soon turned indignant again. "Plus I was doing fine until you came into the kitchen to distract me, pup."

Harry rolled his eyes this time, choosing to silently start on his breakfast instead of replying to the man's poor excuses as Sirius finally settled down with his own plate to eat after placing a bowl of cut fruits between the two of them.

But burnt eggs and annoying godfather aside, Harry supposed this was one of the best breakfasts he had had in his life, as he finally had a taste at eating at a table with _his family._

* * *

"So, pup, what are your plans for today?"

Harry shrugged. "The usual. Study. Eat. Study. I also need to go see Griphook and Fradgrot about certain matters, especially my wand." Harry grimaced at the mundane routine before he remembered something. "Ohh! Ohh. Wait there's something else."

He raced up the stairs, ignoring Sirius' "What?" as he ran for his room. Finding what he needed in less than five minutes, he raced back down, handing Sirius some shrunk packages.

"Open them! Open them!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow at his overexcited behavior.

"I don't have a wand to enlarge them, pup. How –"

Sirius paused as ten wands were shoved in front of his face.

"What the –"

"Did I forget to mention Jadeclaw said you were allowed to use magic about two days ago?" Harry asked with an innocent expression.

Sirius looked affronted. "You purposely kept them from me, didn't you?"

Harry shrugged, not in the least remorseful. He had been really curious on how long Sirius could last without a wand in the house. Besides the man's exaggerated lament at the inability to do magic had been funny.

"Entertainment is hard to come by nowadays, Paddy. A kid's got to do what a kid's got to do to have some fun."

Sirius glared at his unrepentant godson. "I'll get you back for this. Watch out pup. You just watch out."

Harry smiled. "Give it your best shot mutt."

Sirius scowled at Harry's obvious lack of fear.

Muttering about mischievous godsons under his breath – much to Harry's amusement- the escaped prisoner spent the next five minutes trying out the different wands. Sirius soon found the best fit he could manage was with a twelve-inch oak wood wand that contained a hippogriff's feather for a core. It certainly did not match as well as his true wand but it was the best out of the ten Harry had presented.

Seeing Sirius' slightly disappointed look, Harry tried to cheer the man up a little. "We can get you a custom wand if you want. You're healthy enough to come with me for shopping now. All we need is a disguise I suppose…"

Sirius smiled at his godson. "That'd be nice."

The escaped convict tapped the wand to the packages in front of him, frowning in puzzlement at what he was faced with once the packages grew back to normal size. "Are these seeds, pup?"

Harry nodded his head.

"Yep!"

"Why are you giving me seeds?" Sirius asked, extremely confused.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why else? We are going to plant them!"

"Why –"

Harry didn't wait to know the rest of the question. He dragged his godfather out of the house. The man could ask away as they gardened.

* * *

Harry stood back, assessing the job he and his godfather had done to his home's backyard.

Looking to where his godfather laid sprawled on the ground and refraining from rolling his eyes – seriously he was doing that a lot around Sirius – he said, "Well, all that's left is watering them and I'd say by tomorrow morning we'll have some really beautiful but funny plants growing here. Though the muggle ones are going to take a day or two longer to grow that quickly even with that magical fertilizer."

Sirius gave a muffled grunt, his hand covering his face as he continued lying on the ground.

"Honestly, Padfoot, stop the drama. I thought dogs liked getting dirty?" Harry asked with a snicker as he approached his godfather. He sat on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest as he gave his godfather a smirk.

"Pup, it's twelve in the afternoon. The sun is literally beating down on us. How are you still about?" The man turned to give him a glare. "You better drink lots of water after this, Prongslet."

Harry gave a small smile, liking the concern in his godfather's tone. "I will. And don't worry so much. I'm used to gardening at this hour. I'll be fine."

When he received no reply, Harry turned to find his godfather staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?"

"Is this something else you picked up from your previous home?"

Harry stilled, staring at his godfather in shock. The man gave a small smile but it contained no happiness.

"I know the signs of neglect and abuse, pup. I know them too well in fact." Harry's eyes widened slightly at Sirius' indirect confession. The man's home life before he lived with Harry's father was a topic they had always avoided before.

Sirius stared at him for a moment longer before sitting up with a sigh. "I'm sorry, pup. I should have been there for you. If I had, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

Harry stared at the man, unable to speak anything yet. His godfather looked him straight in the eye.

"I can understand if you don't want to talk to me about it now. But if you trust me enough to share in the future, I'll be here to listen. I promise. You are my priority now pup. Rat be damned. I'm sorry I'm twelve years too late in doing this. But I'm going to set things right between you and me. From here onwards, I promise to you that you will always be my first and foremost priority. I'll never do the mistake of abandoning you again, pup. I swear it on my life and my love for James and Lily."

"Sirius, I –"

"You don't need to tell me anything yet pup. As I said, when you're truly ready to trust me with that part of your life, I'll be here."

Harry gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Paddy."

Sirius simply opened his arms in response. Harry leaned into the embrace. A wave of magic washed over him as his Head of House Ring alerted him that new protective wards were settling on his home, covering the entire land, woods included. Harry filed away the information to ask Griphook later, choosing to enjoy the peaceful moment with his godfather instead of pondering about the wards when he was certain the goblins had finished updating and securing his home about two weeks ago.

"You really need to go drink some water now though, pup."

Harry shook his head at the man for ruining the moment.

* * *

"You look fine."

Sirius shot a glare at his godson. "No, I look like an idiot. Why do I have to wear this hideous glamour anyway?"

"So you don't get kissed by a Dementor?"

Sirius shuddered. "Alright. Point taken, but you could have at least given me something better than bleach blonde hair and dull blue eyes. These don't suit me at all, pup."

Harry palmed his face. "You look fine Sirius," the thirteen-year-old stated for the umpteenth time. "Now go before Griphook gets annoyed. He is waiting for you, you know?"

Sirius frowned. "You are coming, right?"

"Yes, but I'm only joining you to get your wand. Griphook says it'll take about a few hours at the least to settle your admin matters so I'm going to go take care of my own matters while you do that. I need to meet someone – and no I'm not telling you who – and I also need to visit one of the Potter properties before that. Potter Manor to be exact. I have some things to collect from there."

Sirius nodded. "Alright pup." Sirius gave him a brief hug. "See you in a few hours. Hopefully, I'll survive the paperwork."

"You better, Padfoot."

Throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace, Sirius waved to his godson one last time before green flames swallowed him up.

* * *

He looked at the mansion before him. Even from where he stood far away from outside the gates, he found it to be huge.

_"Potter Manor has your entire tapestry dedicated to your ancestry. A self-updating one. Along with those, you have many, many portraits of your ancestors there. Have you not seen it?" Sirius asked, confused._

Harry wondered why he was thinking of that conversation now of all times. His own reply to that question came back to him.

_"I didn't know about it then. And I haven't really checked on the Manor before that so the potion to reveal my family tree had been the only way for me to confirm my suspicions on whether you were in any way a betrayer to my family or not. My parents' wills told me Peter was the Secret-Keeper but the fact that you were imprisoned somehow...I was denied any allowance to view your trial transcript, you see. The Ministry official had declined all my requests. _

_Well, I had to make sure you truly were innocent. And well a magic-bound godfather from the potion's results cleared any doubts I had on you being innocent considering you would have been a squib or dead if you had intentionally meant me harm."_

It had been one of the less truthful answers he had given Sirius. While the will and trial matters were real (Sirius telling him he had no trial in the first place had not been a shocker in all honesty with how things were going), the fact that he did not know about the family portraits and the family tree was a lie. The goblins had mentioned there was a possibility that the Potter Mansion, or Manor as Sirius referred to it, would have a family tree considering it was a tradition among old families to have one and the Potter family was an Ancient one. There had also been several blunt hints about family portraits too. But Harry had refused to even try it. Sure the R_uehmhtana _potion would take a little longer (and was almost a tad bit on the other side of legal), but he had insisted. And the goblins had not pushed.

In reality, he had taken great pains to avoid the place entirely. Even when he had to check on its condition, he had simply granted the goblins access through his Head ring before portkeying away.

The truth was, Harry was not sure how to face his family – even if they were in portraits. It was funny when he thought about it. He always wanted to know about his family but now when a chance was right in front of him, he was scared of it. Funny indeed. Funny and pathetic.

Harry sighed, pushing away the whirlwind of emotions within him. Now was certainly not the time. He supposed he was thankful he had not shown any of the hesitations when he had interacted with Sirius the past week or so except for maybe the beginning. But then again, Sirius was one man. This matter would involve more than at least five generations of his ancestors.

He lifted his foot, only to hesitate again.

But the main matter, he supposed, would be his parents. Harry had no idea if they had portraits of themselves. A big part of him was hoping there was but he knew logically that the chances were slim, considering it had been wartime back then and they had died at a young age.

He let out a breath he had not realized he was holding.

This was getting ridiculous. "I can always get their portraits painted if I need. Now all I need to go in and get my task done."

He was lying again, to himself this time. A magical portrait required something of the owner, something personal and from their bodies – like a piece of hair. Harry knew he had none of that. But a sweet lie was much better than the bitter truth.

His mind drifted back to the conversation he had had with Griphook – the main reason as to why he was coming back to his ancestral home.

_"Such things are better absorbed if you formed your own opinions on it. The Hogwarts curriculum and the magical world's practices have undergone many changes over time, Harrison and not all changes were good. Maybe you should try and find out more on History of Magic."_

The conversation had been bugging Harry for a good few days. The goblins had always been honest with Harry in telling him the truth as they knew it. So Griphook mentioning that magic was discriminated was a concerning thing to him. He loved magic with how it had always been there to help him survive and discrimination was never used with a positive connotation. If magic was truly being discriminated, Harry wanted to know how and why. He found it hard to believe that the wizarding world would discriminate the very thing that made them special. But he was not going to doubt the goblins' words. And the evidence of how Britain treated their creatures – even the harmless ones – was proof enough that the wizarding world was capable of cruelty and bigotry. He was skeptical there would be a good reason behind it either, considering wizards and witches often seemed to lack good reasoning behind whatever they did.

Harry looked back at the mansion. He had finally decided to come over not because he was suddenly brave enough to meet his ancestors but because he knew his family had a humongous collection of tomes that could help him learn the true History of Magic. Scouring the magical world's market for something on the subject would be fruitless considering it would only take him so many years back and that it would probably be covered in Ministry propaganda. Other than maybe buying old collections of Daily Prophets or searching up the different laws of the wizarding world and finding out about when, how and why they were made, changed or adapted, there were not many options for him to learn about magical history. So the Potter library was his best hope.

"Really," Harry thought as anxiety rose within him as he thought back on meeting his family, "However am I a Gryffindor?"

He approached the old gates of his long-dead family's home.

* * *

"Young master made it back!"

Harry jumped at the raspy voice that appeared at his side. A very, very old looking elf was looking at him. It was so old its hair was a pearly white and it had a long, white beard trailing to the floor. The creature strangely reminded Harry of muggles' Santa Claus, just smaller and with pointy ears. Its red attire that was only slightly visible from under its big beard was not helping Harry in his imagination.

"Burky is so glad Master finally came back. Burky was so afraid Burky would fail the last master's wishes."

Harry barely had time to register the old elf's words when the fragile thing launched itself at Harry and whisked him away from the Manor grounds with a 'pop'.

Shaking his head to clear his disorientation as he landed on his two feet, Harry found himself in a small room, with a pedestal in its middle that held a leather book with rune carvings all around it.

"What's this place, Burky?"

"The ward room, young Master. You is needing to place a drop of blood on the ward book. It will connect young Master's magic to the wards and the whole house much stronger than the Master's ring. It is extra safety for Master as Master be getting complete control of the entire Potter properties."

Harry turned to the elf in shock. "All the properties? Even the other three properties under the Potter name?"

The old elf nodded his head. "Yes, young Master. Yes. Tis is the main ward. It is connected to all other Potter family properties. If the Master has new properties, all Master has to do is add name to the book. Magic will extend to new property."

Harry stared at the elf with his mouth open in shock, even as his mind took in all the new possibilities this new security opened to him. He was never going to say no to more safety features after all.

"I've never seen the likes of this before in any of my other properties, Burky. And some of the properties I've visited are even more ancient than these."

"Tis made by a Potter, young Master. Your grandmother's work before she passed. Tis is a new feature. Only two generations old. The old Mistress did not let the world know of her creation. Tis been kept within Potter house as a secret for family's protection during dark times."

Harry suspected dark times meant during the war with Voldemort.

He approached the bound leather book, observing the runic designs on it. "How many drops of blood, Burky?"

"Just one, young Master."

Harry reached for the small knife placed beside the book. Feeling a jolt go through him, he looked at the elf who was now standing beside him questioningly.

"Magic checks you are family when you try to change wards using the knife, young Master. Burky knows no more than that."

"What if someone uses another knife?" Harry asked curiously.

"Tis room only allows true family, young Master. Knife is just more protection."

"Figures," Harry thought. "They wouldn't only have a knife to guard these matters."

Letting a drop of his blood fall onto the book, Harry gasped as he felt a sudden tingling wash over his entire being while his finger healed magically. A moment later he found himself having an influx of information enter his brain as he suddenly had an acute awareness on what went on in every Potter property he owned.

The information from which types of wards to which kind of bug even crawled into his ancestor's properties by accident entered and exited his mind in the blink of an eye. Strangely enough, they did not overwhelm his brain.

"Oh holy goddess, Burky this is amazing!"

Silence met his exclamation.

"Burky?"

Harry turned to find the old elf staring at his own hands silently. Hands that were fading.

"Burky!"

Harry rushed over to the being, panic rushing over him as he realized that the purple link between him and the creature was growing fainter.

"Sorry young Master. But Burky's time has long past. Burky's magic kept him alive to tell young Master what he needed to know. Burky is sorry he can't help you more."

"Don't say that! You've been a great help! Thank you so much for waiting. I'm sorry for not coming sooner."

Harry cursed his own fear for having kept this poor elf in solitude for so long. It must have been miserable to be alone in such a big house.

Feeling something being pressed into his hand, he glanced down to see a crystal vial in his hand.

"What –"

"The old masters and mistresses reminded Burky to take something of young Master's parents when they died since they do not have portraits. Burky took their hair but Burky is not knowing how to make magical portraits, young Master."

Harry's hand clenched about the vial. "Oh."

The old elf gave a little smile, seemingly understanding Harry's inability to say anything more. "Good luck young Master. Burky be happy to serve the Blessed One even if it was for a short while."

Harry frowned in confusion at the old elf's words but his expression soon turned to that of amazement as he felt his magic reaching out to the old being. He watched as Burky started crumbling before his eyes into golden dust as soon as his magic encompassed him.

At the back of his mind, new information entered and alerted him of changes within the Potter Mansion's grounds.

To the west of the Potter Mansion, within a small area that was dedicated to the loyal house elves that served the Potter household, a small tomb had appeared. The name 'Burky of the Potter Family' was written across the new grave.

* * *

Queen Akigla of the Goblin Nation stopped in midst of her spell creation as she felt a familiar magic wash over her, alerting her of the approaching presence of a little merboy she met the last full moon. Settling her quill down from where she had been scribbling a note, her royal highness turned to face the pool situated at the back of her cave.

Like before, a soaked forehead peeked out of the water, followed by two beautiful emerald orbs. Akigla noted how there was a more pronounced sense of presence within the eyes of the merboy unlike during the full moon.

She approached the edge of the pool, kneeling down to greet the little one.

"Hello again, Harrison of the ocean." The queen smiled at the boy's reddening cheeks. "Or would you rather go back to Lord Potter now that you have regained your mind, little one."

Harry swam closer to the pool's edge.

"Harrison is fine, Your Highness. Thank you for allowing me to visit," he said shyly, "I'm sorry I intruded the last time I was here."

Akigla waved away the apology. "It was fine, little one. It certainly was not your fault, though I do admit my nation – at least the females in them – were highly amused when they heard of you thwarting our wards and leaving our male counterparts in a frenzy."

Harry's blush worsened. Akigla chuckled. "Do not be embarrassed, young one."

Harry smiled sheepishly. He took his right arm out of the water. Steam surrounding his hand for a brief five seconds before clearing away. On his palm, there was a beautiful sculpture of a lily, glistening in the low light within the cave. Harry handed it over to the Queen.

"I brought you something. It's a thank you gift, I suppose. I made it on the full moon."

The goblin queen reached out for the present, accepting it graciously. "Thank you, little one. It is lovely."

Harry beamed.

"The word around was that you were visiting your ancestral home. How was the trip?"

Harry shrugged. "I went to collect some books to read on the history of the Wizarding World, its changes and how it affected magic and such. But some other things happened. I collected the books I needed and well, I finally met my ancestors." He paused. "Briefly. Very briefly."

Akigla smiled, shifting position to sit more comfortably on the dirt-covered ground.

"It is alright to be afraid to meet them. You had, after all, lived your life believing you were orphaned. You have fiercely wished to have known your family for a long time while believing you would never get the chance. It will naturally feel disconcerting and unbelievable at first when suddenly the opportunity presents itself."

Harry sighed. "Well, you hit the nail on the head."

The goblin Queen smiled and changed the topic, sensing the boy's unease at the topic.

"You have better control over your powers, I see."

"Oh yes, Your Highness!" Harry set his elbows onto the edge of the pool where the water met earth, mood brightening at the less sombre topic. "Fradgrot's lessons have helped a lot in discipline as Griphook had promised they would. I've practised my water powers ever since the full moon incident and now I can control the shape and size of water much more easily! The connection between the water and my magic is stronger too. And if I try hard enough, I can somehow control it without using the hand gesture to direct my magic!"

Harry paused, suddenly realizing he was babbling away to the Goblin Queen. Just like the last time he had visited under the moon's spell. He ducked his head, embarrassed.

"Oh, don't stop, Harrison. It was very intriguing."

Harry looked back to the goblin Queen's face from under his wet fringe. "I didn't mean to be talkative."

Akigla shook her head. "There is nothing wrong with it child. You have to believe it when others tell you that."

The Queen stood up. "How about you step out of the water and follow me? We can continue the talk as I bring you around our nation's home. The other goblettes have been very interested in meeting you."

Harry hesitated. "Would I be disturbing them?"

"No little one," Akigla soothed his worries, "They should have finished their lunches an hour or two ago. And as I said, they are interested in meeting you. The children usually play by the lake this time. It is the best time of the day to make new friends. Come on."

Harry pulled himself out of the water, steaming himself dry before standing on his two feet that reappeared. He walked over to the Queen goblette.

"I believe you were revealing more on the gestures you used while performing water magic, Harrison," Akigla prompted, leading the wizard child out of the cave.

"Mm hmm, I can change the shape and size of water without the gesture, if I concentrate enough Your Highness though it's for a very short time. But I haven't been able to do it for the other three powers since I have yet to master them with the gestures first…"

The voices of the two faded off as they walked away, trading stories and eventually laughter as they strengthened their chanced acquaintance into something stronger – a friendship. A friendship that both hoped would last for the years to come.

Neither noticed the strange energy that grew within the cave they left, buzzing as though happy and content with what it witnessed between the human and goblette before disappearing as quietly as it came.

* * *

**A/N: It has come - the day in which I do not have a name for the chapter. I really don't know what to name it.**

**Shrugs.**

**Anyways, yall have already guessed who** '_she' _**is. Smart people. Yall know your HP well. **

**Also, about Harry having a fishy accident while Sirius cried...Wow, guys I really did not think of that. Like honestly, in my mind Sirius tears' never fell on Harry. Call it luck but well it never happened. But that was certainly an inspiration. You never know, maybe we could have that in future chapters if possible. **

**And the Siren episode. I really cannot imagine Harry wanting to sing badly yet. Imagine though, as the wizarding world starts fawning over his voice lmao. "The-Boy-Who-Sings!" ****It'll be a comedic disaster - for Harry especially. **

**The next full moon will really be when Harry goes through anything weirder but well I still don't see how he'll want to know how to sing badly which is basically the prompt the full moon needs to make him a siren. Well, at least that's what I got from that H2O episode. Cleo was amazing. And the way Mr Satori got all protective of his daughter was so funny.**

**All that aside, I hope yall enjoy this chapter. Not very heavy on anything new but well it is necessary before the plot can move on, I suppose.**

* * *

_New A/N: _

_You know it is really funny to be reading my old A/N ahahahahhaa _

_Also I feel so stupid. I got the message (from a nice, polite reader and from the review section) that this chapter content was a repeat of goblin nation part 2 chapter. And I distinctly rmb re-posting it to the right chapter content. But lo and behold. When i check it again. The chapter content is still wrong! _

_*insert repeated face-palming* _

_Anyways here is the proper chapter 11. I hope it actually updates. And I'm not dreaming this up..._


	12. Horrifying Horcruxes & Shopping

**A/N: This resumes from after Harry's visit with Akigla**

* * *

Staring at the rather huge pile of paperwork that was laying before his groaning godfather and his smirking account manager, he wisely decided he should wait a few more hours before coming back to drag Sirius for shopping. He knew from experience that when Griphook was tormenting somebody like that, he should not get between the goblin and the victim. Unless he himself was the one Griphook was trying to torture, that is.

Giving a hasty smile to the two occupants in the room who had turned to look at him at his entrance, he gave a quick "I'll come back when you are not busy" before bolting out, ignoring Sirius' betrayed expression steadfastly.

The man would survive. Harry did, after all. Besides, if the man could not think to bribe the goblin with money to make said goblin to do his work (which was what Harry did within five minutes of being handed his own paperwork by Griphook), well then the man would simply have to learn how to do paperwork.

Harry supposed he could just go to Fradgrot and get his own matters sorted before coming back. It was not like Griphook would let Sirius go so easily.

* * *

"Harrison?"

"Hmm?" Harry asked, staring at the blackish-brown cap floating in front of his face, idly wondering what Sirius must be going through at the moment.

"Would you kindly stop playing with my drink?"

Harry gave a sheepish smile. With a flick of his hand, the rather dark coloured drink that was changing shapes before him settled back into its mug.

"Thank you."

"So, do you know what's wrong?"

"Not quite. You were saying it doesn't work?"

"No. It's still connected to me but well, it's more difficult to conduct my magic through it. I sweated buckets before I could do a simple _lumos._"

Harry Potter watched as his goblin mentor – Fradgrot – murmured softly as he traced his clawed finger over the his wand. The magical tool lit up briefly as previously invisible runes lit up around it in a flash.

"Hmm, Phoenix and Holly."

"That's my wand materials! How'd you know?"

Fradgrot raised an eyebrow at the child. Understanding dawned on Harry a beat later.

"Ah, right. Those runes that lit up."

Fradgrot nodded, pleased to see his pupil bothering to use his brain.

"Well, from my limited expertise, your wand is indeed in working order. And considering you still feel connected to it but have a harder time using the wand, my only likely conclusion is that this has something to do with your magical core."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You mentioned it yourself that ever since your transformation, you have been able to feel your magic constantly while before you could only feel it while you used the magic for spells and such. That means your magical core has undergone some changes. We'll have to find out what exactly changed before we can fix it or find a solution. In the meantime, I'll have to seek out experts to confirm if my theory is wrong or correct."

"The first time I transformed, I felt like my magic was being set free within me. From then on I could always feel it without having to use up much energy, even when I do spells. It's like the magic is right under my skin. Does it mean my core stabilised early or something?"

Fradgrot gave him a sharp look. "Well Harrison, no. Stabilised cores do not often bring that feeling. Rather it results in more magical stamina and power. From what you tell me, it seems you are highly magically sensitive. Not all magical beings are acutely aware of magic being pulled from their core while they do spells and certainly do not feel it under their skin. From your descriptions, it seems your core has changed from a coiled core to that of an open core."

Harry frowned in confusion, not understanding the term.

"All witches and wizards, Harrison, are born with open cores. That's why when your kind is little, they undergo accidental magic. The magic is wild and unrestrained. Thus it is better able to act out to help their young owners in times of need. However, with time, the cores slowly close up. That means that their magic is bound within their centres, with it reacting only when called upon or in dire emergencies where it acts on its own to save its person. A prime reason this binding happens is because witches and wizards do not have the necessary adaptations to live with open cores. If their magic were to boost while they had an open core, it is highly likely their bodies may not be able to contain it.

Now, in your race's life, the ages eleven, fifteen and seventeen are important milestones because that is when your magical cores gain maturity. At eleven, the magical core gains its first stability where their magical power had grown enough to be capable of wielding a wand and the magical core has fully drawn in the amount of magic that is within the witch or wizard.

The reason witches and wizards have wands is because they are of certain power ranges. Any less and they are squibs. Any more and they will usually be counted as mages or warlocks depending on their power scale. Now over the past centuries not many have gained such power so we will not focus on that for today."

Harry leaned in, elbows on the desk as he listened attentively to the informative lecture.

"Now as I was saying, the age eleven is when your race has their first stability, where their cores are bound and their magic gains its first growth, indicating they are capable of using wand magic. This is why magical schooling starts only at eleven. It is the age where you can be safely taught to discipline your magic with no fear of backlash were you to use a wand. And the wand chooses its witch or wizard through the type of core the person has and their magic's," Fradgrot paused, searching for a fitting word. "Well their magic's personality, for a lack of better words. The core and magic should match and complement that of the wand's cores so that the magic can be conducted well."

The stout goblin started to skim around his shelves, seemingly searching for a book. Harry trailed the goblin's movements, absorbing the information he was receiving with keen attention.

"At age fifteen," Fradgrot continued, "the magical core reaches its second stage of stability. Often this involves in a growth in the magical core. Along with that, it's also the time when witches and wizards start showing any magical affinities they have been blessed with from birth more distinctly. They often show it then as at fifteen is when they have cultivated enough magic to showcase such powers. In olden days there were rituals to find out what the gifts - if there were any – that were bestowed by magic. This will be something else you have to research on your own and come to your conclusions on whether it was right or wrong."

At Harry's frown, Fradgrot explained over his shoulder about Griphook mentioning his project to discover magic's discrimination.

"Ah. OK."

Fradgrot carried on his impromptu lecture.

"Now, age seventeen is the last stage of maturity. By then, the magical core of witches and wizards are fully stabilised and should be at the maximum power and capacity that the person is blessed with. They are considered legal adults in the magical world as it is when they are viewed by magic as being in full control of their individual powers.

Now before the transformation, I suppose you would have gone through the same experience, just maybe with a much better sync with magic than your peers considering your acute magical sensitivity.

But now, from what you recounted, I believe your core has changed to be that of an open core. Do keep in mind that this is only speculation on my part. It is obvious your core has changed and the most likely change is that of an open core. The main difference for you now is that your core will not stabilise anymore. At least, not the same way as the coiled cores.

It's simple logic, really, assuming my speculation is accurate.

Your magic is now not anchored to only your centre. While it is still produced within your centre, it moves about and circulates your entire being, pulsing under your very skin. Therefore, wand magic is more difficult for you compared to your peers as now your magic is not all bound in one place within you where you can easily direct it."

Harry blinked, absorbing the information in bewilderment.

"So I can't ever use a wand again?"

Fradgrot scoffed.

"You most certainly can."

"How? Besides, did you not mention that my body is not created in such a way as to house an open core for long? Does that not mean it's dangerous for me?"

"One question at a time please, Harrison."

Harry gave a sheepish smile that the goblin, who had his back to the wizard, did not see.

"While usually it would be a matter of concern for you to have an open core, I doubt it will affect you adversely anymore. Human magicals may not be adapted for it but creatures are. And do not forget that while you still retain your humanity in your mer ability, you are also blessed to be a water creature as well. That itself indicated you would undergo some changes. This means your body, unlike that of your fellow witches and wizards, is capable of housing an open core and withstanding direct, prolonged exposure to magic."

Harry picked up on the indirect message that open cores are common among those blessed with creature abilities or were born as creatures with magical abilities.

"And as for your wand. Well, assuming my assumptions are correct, your problem can be easily solved if you establish a clear pathway to conduct magic between your core and wand."

"And how do I do that?"

"Well, the easy way is to adjust your wand. Usually when wands stop working for their wizard or witch, it is often because something – often something very traumatic – caused their compatibility to change. That often entails with the person having to change their whole wand as it is often the personality of their magic that changes, triggering the need to change their wand components entirely. It is a rare occurrence. But for your case, considering your wand is still connected to you, this suggests your wand is compatible to your magic but not wholly so because it is not suited to your new core. The solution should be as simple as adding one more material to your wand to enable that better direct connection between your magical core and your wand despite your magic thrumming about your entire being. So I suppose we should get you to a wand maker and have your wand adjusted. I heard your godfather was getting a wand sometime today or tomorrow. You could get this done then too."

Harry stared at the goblin skimming through the office shelf sceptically, wondering where the catch was. Fradgrot was never one to let him do things the easy way. This was the goblin that forced him to read his entire potions book series in one sitting and make notes so as to break his 'dumbing down' habit.

"And the hard way is?" Harry enquired.

"Well that," Fradgrot said, finally reaching out for a book on the lower part of the shelf, "is where you learn better control over your magic by disciplining your magical core and all the magic in you. It is one step beyond the known Occlumency practice as this is something your kind has yet to explore. And as to why you will be attempting this even when you are getting your wand fixed? Well, having an open core is no laughing matter. The magic you have is even more unrestrained than your peers and can react to simple emotions if you do know how to control it. While it may sometimes be good during an emergency, it can be equally bad during such a time that you are facing a skilled nemesis."

Harry's thoughts unwillingly flitted back to Voldemort at the words 'skilled nemesis'.

"If they are intelligent enough, they could use your own violent magic against you. Therefore, it is imperative that you learn to control your magic. Should be easy with you considering your magical sensitivity."

Harry sat up straighter. For the goblins to share their own knowledge so freely was rare, especially to a wizard. Granted he was closer to the goblins than most but even then it was rare. He knew instinctively that he was to treasure this more than any other teaching the goblins have given him.

"And how do I do that?" he asked.

"It's simple," the goblin said, coming back over to his office desk and sliding over a thick tomb to Harry. The title read _The Mind Arts and the Soul_.

"I'm going to give you the instructions to help you learn how to find your core."

Harry blinked, stunned. He was pretty sure no one had ever mentioned they could find their own magical cores within them. While one could feel it when they did spells and such, it was believed to be impossible to find. It was an intangible thing, he glanced down at the title of the tomb, just like the soul was an intangible thing.

He looked up at his mentor with awe and disbelief, remembering the goblin's starting words at his whole wand topic.

"This is what you call _limited_ expertise, Fradgrot?" he asked.

The goblin in question rolled his eyes though Harry was certain a slight pink dusted his mentor's cheeks.

* * *

"Good evening, Griphook!"

Harry sauntered into his account manager's office, brightening at the scowl thrown his way.

"Do you not have a godfather to annoy now?" Griphook asked sullenly, slowly putting away his beloved paperwork.

"I require assistance. Besides, I thought he was with you?"

"I was only covering for his account manager while the Elder had to attend to an important meeting. Your mutt should be in Elder Drakrug's office right now, resuming his pitiful plight."

"He still has not figured out that he can get away by bribing you with money, has he?"

"Now I would hardly call it bribing. Merely being paid to do what you hired me to do."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"So what was it you needed assistance with?" the goblin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I felt some new wards settling into the property today afternoon while I was with Sirius. I thought all the wards were done already."

Griphook frowned.

"Yes, they were. I'll send the ward masters to check on it immediately."

The goblin flicked his wrist at the child wizard.

"Ow! What was that for?" Harry asked, rubbing his left arm with a scowl as he failed to dodge the stinging hex sent his way.

"First it was for waiting so long to alert me of something this important. Second was for being annoying in general."

"But there was nothing malicious about the wards," Harry pouted, before brightening again, "And what do you mean annoying Griphook? You love me!"

This time he successfully dodged the stinging hex sent his way.

"Well is that all you wanted to bother me about?"

Harry settled himself on the chair opposite the goblin.

"Well, no. I just remembered something a few days ago that I had been meaning to ask about ever since Sirius came. I can't believe I actually forgot about it for so long considering its importance."

Griphook put away the last of his work, giving the wizard child in front of him his utmost attention.

"When Sirius first came, he mentioned something about a prophecy. A prophecy concerning me and the Dark Lord. Do you have any information on it?"

Griphook sighed. "I had wondered when you would ask about it. Though I suppose it should not surprise me that you forgot about it between your godfather's return. I believe majority of the Wizarding World is not aware that such a prophesy exists. As for the Goblin Nation, we do not know the true contents of that prophecy. We do know however," Griphook continued, seeing the slight disappointment on his client's face, "That the gist of it is rumoured to prophesy about someone being born that can defeat the Dark Lord. From our sources, it was said that that prophecy was the prime reason you were targeted by the Dark Lord."

Harry nodded. Sirius had mentioned that much, though the man himself did not know the true prophecy.

"Also, the individuals who are prophesied about can always retrieve a recording of their respective prophecy from the Unspeakables' lair which is in the Ministry. Or what is commonly known as the Department of Mysteries."

Harry grimaced. He certainly did not want to appear at the Ministry anytime soon what with the whole Boy-Who-Live craze and how the Ministry seemed to be filled with no good politicians from what little exposure he had. The latest rumour from the goblins' networks was that the Minister was planning to send Dementor guards at Hogwarts though there were no confirmations to the speculation yet. Harry was hoping that for once the rumour was just that – a rumour. He still remembered how Sirius looked dead inside when he first came to him. While the man's innocence had certainly saved him from being as affected by the Dementors he had certainly not been spared. Heck, Sirius still had nightmares frequently.

And while he had always known at the back of his mind that he and Voldemort seemed somehow fated to clash, he certainly dreaded confirming it by going and looking for that prophecy. The man was some fifty years ahead of him _and _had managed to stay alive despite being somewhat killed. Compare that to Harry's meagre two years' experience within the magical community, well; his self-preservation was screaming at him that he was better off avoiding the man, even though he wished the man was dead for murdering his parents.

_"It's certainly the better option, even if it is an impossible option," his inner self murmured. _Harry's mind recalled his past confrontations with the spirits of the undead Dark Lord. Harry grimaced some more. Avoiding the man was not likely despite his wishes to do so. The crazy man was sadly bent on killing him.

Mind overrun with many matters, Harry turned his attention back to the goblin in front of him.

"Griphook."

The goblin raised an eyebrow.

"When I recounted my past misadventures at Hogwarts, you were concerned whenever Voldemort made an appearance." Harry noted the grimace on his goblin friend's face with narrowed eyes. "You know something I don't, don't you? You said during that time that you will be researching into the matter?"

Griphook sighed, rubbing the side of his forehead with his clawed fingers. "I am certain you will not like what I have to share. And I have not finished discovering half of the matter."

"That bad?" Harry asked with his own grimace. Steeling himself internally for the worse, he asked for the goblin to share the news anyway.

"Please tell me even if it's terrible. I have a feeling I really need to know when it comes to Voldemort. I doubt I can survive another chance encounter with that madman again without extra help."

Griphook straightened in his seat with another sigh at Harry's words, seemingly resigning to his fate of having to inform Harry of the bad news.

"Well if the prophecy is true and self-fulfilling, you will indeed need help because right now you are in a bad disadvantage when it comes to mortality rates." The goblin prepped his elbows onto his desk, looking Harry in the eye. "It seems Lord Voldemort's key to immortality is a horcrux. Or should I say, horcruxes."

* * *

"A horcrux is, to put it simply, a container in which a person hides a part of his or her soul to anchor them to this plane of life should their original body die. However, the soul is not something that should be split apart. The soul is where a being's life essence and (for magical beings) their magic is kept. It is also what anchors your mind and personality to your body. Splitting it essentially tears a person apart, their sanity and power. Furthermore, the soul's natural state forbids it to be split apart. Thus to do so against its nature, one has to do a very nefarious ritual. A ritual in where the last action to complete the process is to do an act of extreme evil. One example is cold blooded murder of another person."

Griphook could hardly blame the child in front of him for sporting such a disgusted look.

"He made that? He made more than one of that?"

Griphook shrugged. "That is my belief, yes. The descriptions of the diary you mentioned matches that of a horcrux. When you destroyed it – a very commendable job, by the way– the accounts of Salazar Slytherin and Gaunt should have rightfully closed down till a new Heir or Lord claimed it, which in all honesty would have been you as you defeated the last Lord and rightfully can claim it through conquest. However, the accounts are regrettably still in possession of one Tom Marvalo Riddle, showing that the Dark Lord is still alive."

Harry played with the sleeves of his robes, digesting the information with great difficulty.

"Barbaric. That's simply barbaric."

Harry sighed, letting his face fall on to his hands. Looking up to see Griphook, he asked, "Is it possible to find out how many he made and where he hid them?"

"Yes, but it will be extremely difficult without a focus. If we had that diary before it was destroyed, we could have used the soul piece within to find the answers you seek. But as of now, it would be a blind search."

Harry frowned. "That may be so, but maybe we could still search around places that had connections to the Dark Lord's past. I'm certain he would not just leave his soul parts lying about randomly with no protections.

Griphook nodded. "That's a good idea. I suppose you have some form of an idea?"

Harry nodded absently, his mind whirling about with possibilities.

"Maybe we could start with that orphanage that he wanted to never go back to from what I saw in the memory. And the area surrounding it. Even if there is no horcrux, I'm certain there will be some information we could get about him from the people there. And that could clue us into searching someplace else."

"The idea is sound but it will take some time to locate that orphanages' existence, considering you never found out its name."

Harry frowned, realising Griphook's point was valid. "Well, nothing we can do but try. In the meantime, I'll search within Hogwarts."

Griphook's head shot up. A frown marred the goblin's face. Harry hastily explained, stopping the goblin's objections before they could start.

"Listen. I'm certain there's a chance that a horcrux could be there if he made another one." Harry searched for the right words to express his thoughts.

"He was right in saying what he said to me in the Chamber of Secrets, no matter how much I loathe admitting it. He and I have a lot in common despite our differences in opinions in many matters. And as a magical orphan who was shunned in the muggle world and found a home somewhat in Hogwarts, I'm very certain he would feel it safe to leave part of his soul within the castle to be hidden from anybody else. It's what I would do if I ever went that insane." Harry paused, grimacing at that thought. "And I hope I'll never go that insane."

The explanation failed to assure the surly goblin.

"The chances of finding a horcrux in Hogwarts aside, Harrison, you still cannot simply go horcrux hunting all by yourself!"

"Why ever not?" Harry asked, not understanding Griphook's objection.

"It's dangerous!"

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh," the goblin rolled his eyes at the child's lack of awareness or care when it came to his own health. "Besides, there is no way you could possibly identify a horcrux even if you come across one, unlike the warders we'll be having here at Gringotts. That means you will be unaware if you do stumble across one and more vulnerable to becoming a victim like that first year you saved last year."

Harry shook his head, remembering the head-splitting pain he often underwent every time he was in the presence of Voldemort – horcrux or the actual thing.

"No. I can identify if I'm near one. My scars gives me quite the headache whenever I'm near Voldemort."

"What?" Griphook stared at the child in front of him in alarm.

Harry startled at the shock and confusion in Griphook's voice.

"Did I never mention the parts where my scar twinges in pain every time I was near Quirell in my first year or the solidifying Tom Riddle in my second year?" Harry asked guiltily as he stared at Griphook.

"No. You most certainly did not." Griphook's face was forming quite a threatening snarl. "Explain."

Harry sighed before explaining how he always experienced pain when in the presence of Voldemort and how Dumbledore had explained at the end of last year that Voldemort had apparently given some of his powers to Harry when he failed to kill him.

Harry frowned as he thought over on what he just said with his better understanding of magic and the magical world. "Oh wow, that is actually not that great an explanation now that I actually think about it. People cannot just pass on their powers to one another like that if Fradgrot's teaching ever taught me anything."

He looked at the surly goblin in front of him who was rubbing his forehead and had the most worried look on his face. Harry felt dread pool within his gut. Griphook had never looked worried before. The goblin had always been snarky but cool and collected when with him. Seeing Griphook worried was unsettling.

"What is it?"

"Harrison."

The tone was extremely cautious and resigned.

"Yes?"

"That first-year girl you saved – a Weasley wasn't it? – She did not naturally have abilities to speak Parseltongue and such did she?"

Harry shook his head.

"But when she was possessed, she could?"

Harry nodded.

Realisation dawned on him like a bucket of ice as he realised where Griphook was going with the conversation.

_Ginny – Voldermort's soul – Possession – Unusual powers_

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

"What are you thinking? Griphook asked with a tired sigh.

Harry unconsciously rubbed his scar, piecing all the information he knew together. Ginny could speak Parseltongue when she was possessed and influenced by Voldemort's soul because Voldemort knew parseltongue. Dumbledore mentioned that Voldemort had passed Harry his powers but Harry now knew that that was not as simple as it sounded. The power of witches and wizards were stored within their souls and you could not just give away your soul.

_"Unless someone split it," his inner voice murmured._

Harry stared at Griphook, with wide eyes. "Please tell me I am not hosting part of that crazy man's soul!"

* * *

"But I don't feel possessed! I mean, I'm pretty sure I feel like me. No other influence."

Harry paced about the office, twiddling with his thumbs and feeling his magic buzz about in a frenzy, reflecting his nervousness and fear.

"Calm down, would you Harrison!" Jadeclaw exclaimed.

Harry whirled about to find all the objects in the Head Healer goblin's office to be either floating, freezing or spinning. He let out a nervous laugh.

"Sorry."

Waving his hand, he let out his magic, willing it to make things go back to normal. Harry slid back into the bed he had vacated a few minutes prior, sitting on its edge and facing the two surly goblins he was conversing with.

"Now, since we are calm, let's get a few things correct. You are not possessed," Jadeclaw started.

"Really?"

"Yes, fish. You aren't."

"Half-fish Griphook," Harry muttered half-heartedly, too frazzled to really bother correcting Griphook.

Griphook frowned at the subdued wizard before sharing a glance with his colleague.

"Harrison, look at us."

Harry reluctantly faced his two closest goblin friends.

"The soul piece within you is not in any way harming you. In fact, from what we were able to discern, your magic has formed a barrier around it in your mind, only allowing beneficial things – such as the ability of Parseltongue – to enter your mind. Nothing else. In fact, I have the distinct impression it is you who are controlling that soul rather than the other way round."

Harry felt a little better at that.

"Can we still take it out? I really do not find it assuring to be hosting such a thing."

Griphook gave a shrug, turning to Jadeclaw who was more experienced in the thing.

"I cannot guarantee it. We will have to confer with the Wardmasters who have more expertise in the matter. The thing is Harrison, while your magic protects you from the soul piece, it also seems to protect that soul piece from any harm."

"What?!"

"Well, it took me quite a few attempts to locate that soul shard despite knowing what I was looking for and where to look for. With how dedicatedly that thing is being guarded by your subconscious magic, well, I cannot guarantee we can get it out of you the same way our ward masters remove horcruxes from treasures during their expeditions."

Harry sighed before a question popped within his mind.

"Why would my magic guard it?"

Both goblins shrugged. "Magic is a peculiar matter, Harrison. It is debated to be sentient and acts with its own mind of sorts. While this may not be the answer you are seeking, it is the only one we have. We may know in time what it means if we are meant to know."

Harry deflated at the cryptic answer.

"Do not look so resigned. We will still be searching for ways to take the thing out of you, regardless of the magic guarding it. While as of now you are not being harmed, your magic feeds a little of itself to the soul shard which may or may not be detrimental to you as your magical growth progress. We should rather not risk it."

"What?" Harry whispered in disbelief.

"You heard me, Harrison. Part of your magic is being fed by you unconsciously to that soul shard keeping it alive, which further proves that your magic is certainly not trying to kill the thing anytime soon. It's either a compromise – give it magic in return for not possessing you – or it's something else which we are not aware of."

"My magic has gone barmy, hasn't it?" Harry let his head fall onto his hands, reeled with the information.

"Don't say that. Be happy you have such good and strong magic. The fact that you still have enough for your own needs besides feeding that soul leech is amazing."

"I thought you said it only takes a little magic from me, Jadeclaw?"

"Yes, and the only possible conclusion for that is that your magic is in control. Had the soul shard been the one in control, you would be magicless and lifeless in a short period of time."

"Like what almost happened to Ginny?" Harry asked, horror rising within him.

"Yes. Exactly like that as of your friend's sister. Although you would not have survived, considering nobody would have been there to check on you or rescue you," Jadeclaw said with a grimace.

Harry scowled at the reminder of his relatives and Dumbledore's blunder. "I can't say I'm not surprised I wasn't given a medical check on that night I survived a killing curse," he said bitterly.

Feeling a clawed hand grip his shoulder, he looked up to see Griphook standing beside him. "Forget about that, Harrison. We'll find a way to solve this situation. We promise."

Jadeclaw nodded in agreement.

"But for now, do not worry so much. Be assured in the knowledge that you cannot be harmed by that soul piece. It could have been worse."

Harry nodded, accepting his situation. There really was no point worrying over things beyond his control at the moment and he was extremely thankful his magic had matters under control for him all these years.

Sending a silent thank you to magic, he stood up from the bed.

He had other things to do anyway. The goblins promised they would help.

"And they do not give empty promises," he thought.

* * *

Harry resumed the twiddling of his thumbs as he watched Griphook meticulously do his paperwork. Sometimes he wondered if the goblin did anything else other than paperwork. He idly wondered when Sirius would finish his admin work or when he would realise the goblins were playing the ultimate prank on him. Honestly, Drakrug was the man's account manager.

"What are you guys going to do to search for the horcruxes?" he asked curiously.

Griphook dipped his quill into the inkpot near him before continuing about his job.

"Well, we are going to have to find that orphanage that one Tom Marvalo Riddle had attended. We are also of the mind to search known properties that Riddle owns if possible, just to ensure that we cover all ground. Meanwhile, we will try our best to find ways to remove that horcrux from you without killing you."

Harry winced at the blunt goblin's words but was grateful for once that the goblins had disposed of the option of killing him to get rid of the horcrux without even considering it. It had heartened him that they had looked him in the eye and said that if there were no known ways to remove a horcrux from a living container, it only meant that they had to create a new way to do so, not that he had to be killed. Honestly, for all their sneering, scowling and bearing teeth, these creatures were too soft in the inside when it came to helping someone they cared for.

"Also, while you are still forbidden to go horcrux hunting yourself, you may discreetly dig up the past of Tom Riddle in Hogwarts."

Harry scowled slightly at the restriction.

"But what if there is a horcrux. We could be wasting time."

"No, we will not. If you gain a very strong indication that some part of that school does indeed hold a horcrux, well then you can inform me and the Goblin Nation will come over to check the matter out."

Harry blinked. "But, you guys cannot just barge into Hogwarts –" he paused. "Can you?"

"We can always find ways, Harrison. You just have to think."

Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Harrison, you have a very precious thing _not _rotting in Hogwarts that you can claim. Have you ever realised that?"

Harry frowned, not getting the goblin's words.

"You know, us goblins are great harvesters, especially when it comes to treasure. And an ancient beast with valuable magical properties is definitely treasure." Griphook threw him another obvious hint.

"The basilisk!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes. The basilisk. You can always call us up to harvest that basilisk for you. It will be a profitable experience for both you and the Goblin Nation. And the fact that such an ancient, magical creature's corpse will simply remain there with no decomposition for the next many years only means that you can call us at such a time where you require our presence for something else too – say a hiding horcrux."

Harry blinked again. "Wow. That's brilliant."

"All it takes it using just a bit of that brain your blessed with, fish," Griphook said with a smile that showed too many teeth.

Harry rolled his eyes at the playful jibe at his intelligence.

"Anyways, before I forget, you mentioned the Unspeakables are the ones to contact to retrieve the Prophecy, did you not? Do I just write 'to an Unspeakable' on the letter?"

"Just write 'Unspeakable' on the address. Your owl should be able to find it. And speaking of letters, Harrison, I received one to give to you."

Harry accepted the fine parchment handed over to him.

"Heir Malfoy, it seems, wants to talk to you."

* * *

_Samhain:_

_It falls on the day when the harvest ends. This is a time of the year when the earth begins its sleep. Where life takes rest and death begins its search. The harvest is done and nature takes its break before being renewed. _

_In olden times, this celebration was thus founded as a form of way to showcase our people's appreciation for Nature and Magic's blessings of good crops and health for us to last throughout the year, especially for the coming season of cold and death. Rituals involving offerings to Lady Magic is a common form of the celebration._

"I do not look good in this!"

Harry twitched, ever so slightly.

_However, magic is something that surrounds us magicals all year through. Some may wonder why we choose this particular time of the year, where the dark half of the year begins, to celebrate our beloved Magic and her blessings._

_The reason comes about due to a special phenomenon that occurs on this particular time. _

"Oh, Prongslet, this would look good on you!"

Harry tried, ever so slightly, to blend with the couch he was seated upon. From the snicker that came from the salesgirl, Harry presumed he failed.

_Samhain marks the start of the dark half of the year as the harvest ends. During this period when Death precedes over Life, the lines between different planes of existence is said to blur. Magic is in favor of those that are of Death. As such, it is said that demons, spirits and those that have been claimed by Death are able to cross into our mortal plane._

_It is believed that death during this period is seen to be a blessed death, for the spirits will have ease in their passing during this time where Death is at his strongest._

Idly, Harry wondered the truth in this statement or if it was a simple myth. His parents were murdered then. How would their passing be considered smooth?

"Then again," he thought, "this refers to their spirits after they left their bodies and are preparing to pass into the afterlife. Not the way they died."

"Cub! Look at this!"

Harry shut his book with a sigh, conceding finally that he would never get to read in peace while his godfather was in a shopping frenzy. He regretted feeding the man pepper up potion so that they could shop despite it being evening. He had meant to get the shopping done sooner. The fact that Ireland's magical district had many shops that were open 24/7 had not helped him. He had not expected Sirius to be so energetic.

_"This is why you should never give a man the goblin's pepper-up potion. Even if it was a sip and even if you were desperate." _Harry cringed at his inner voice's admonishment.

Eyeing the garishly bright purple garment and Sirius' evil smirk Harry told his godfather simply that, "If you even think of forcing me into that thing, I will set Fradgrot on you."

Sirius' immediate dropping of the hideous garment was made even funnier when a nearby salesgirl hissed at the man for recklessly dropping the unsold item on the floor.

Harry burst out laughing.

* * *

All in all, Harry supposed the shopping trip had not been entirely bad. They had managed to buy a whole new wardrobe for the man with charms set on the clothes to adjust over time as Sirius slowly got back his healthy state from before he was imprisoned. And Sirius, despite his twelve-year isolation from the world, had had quite the fashion sense to show off – once he stopped goofing around that is.

Harry turned to Sirius, eyeing the man who was patting all his pockets to check their purchases were still fine after the portkey travel. (They had yet to buy the man a wand - the wand making shops, unfortunately, were closed for the night, unlike the other retail shops.) Clutching the one purchase they had not bothered shrinking to his chest, Harry glanced at the clock they had in the living room.

"Well, I think I can make dinner for both of us in about an hour and a half. Are you very hungry? It is a bit late. Do you need a snack while you wait?"

Sirius shook his head. "I'll be fine, pup. Can I help you while you make dinner?"

Harry gave it a thought. "Well, you could go unpack your clothes first and then come back and start cutting some vegetables if you can guarantee to not make a mess," he replied cheekily.

Sirius rolled his eyes at the task before making his way to his room. "Alright. Be back in a jiffy, pup."

Harry returned his attention to what he clutched in his arms.

To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. He was mortified. Yet he could never deny that he was happy with the whole situation.

He had not planned on buying it. In fact, he had not bought it at all. Sirius had bought it for him. He had tried to stop the man. He was thirteen after all, for magic's sake. He was quite sure he was too old for it but he had _never_ had one before. And when they passed by the shop, full of what Harry had always labelled "never for a freak" in his childhood – well, he had stared just a beat too long.

He really did try to talk Sirius out of it but he would never deny the happiness at the gift.

Shaking his head to stop the squeamish yet happy feelings coursing through him, he gave the brown teddy bear in front of him a superior look. "What you smiling at me for?"

Settling the bear on the sofa, he walked (read skipped) to the kitchen, ready to start dinner. He had a distinct feeling it would be a long time before he would ever grow tired of that bear, teenager or not.

And if he had a silly grin on his face all night, Sirius chose not to comment on it.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this chapter, folks. **(´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

**Also about the Samhain celebration, if it doesn't reflect the actual facts please do not start a riot. This is purely a fictional thing. **

**ALSO, I mean no offence to anybody with anything I write so if you do not agree with something or particularly hate something I write, well, by all means, don't read my story.**

**But if you want to let me know any facts or such that you'd like to share so that I am enlightened, feel free to do so in a _polite _way.**

**Also, (wow I've used many also(s)) this is not a true crossover (is that how I'm supposed to phrase this?). I've already sort of mentioned in one of my previous A/N that the crossover sort of results more from like the concept of mer abilities from H2O crossing over with the HP world. Not the actual characters. Sorry to disappoint some of yall. **

**But all that aside, I hope you like this chapter. Pardon any grammatical errors. I really do not get time to proofread or get someone to proofread nowadays. Thanks to everybody that supports and reviews! It's nice getting feedback and thoughts. **

**What do yall think of the wand core business? I hope my phrasing was understandable. Fradgrot sure gave a huge lecture on that one. **

**And when do yall think is the next full moon will fall on?**

**Until next time, people. Stay healthy and safe!**

**-Abyss**


	13. Guilt & Truce

_He was falling and there was only darkness surrounding him. _

**_The soul is intangible and many will believe it is impossible to find it. That is an incorrect assumption. While finding your whole soul is not yet possible – at least to us goblins – there is one aspect of the soul that is tangible to magical beings especially. _**

**_That is your magical core and its reserves – the places where you magic is created and stored within you._**

_It took a while to realize he did not seem to have a form. He simply existed amongst the vast nothingness._

**_Now as I said before, I will only be giving you instructions to find your core. Other than that, you will be alone for this journey because finding and syncing with your core is an intimate and sacred ritual that others cannot be privy about._**

_He wondered how long he had to fall before he would reach where he was supposed to reach._

**_Now, the mind, body and soul are three different things but they are each intertwined deeply…_**

Harry woke with a gasp, falling back into his bed as he tried to keep himself from falling asleep.

He really needed more stamina in meditation.

Casting a silent tempus, he found the time to be thirty minutes past six.

"Well, I lasted for a good hour before failing," he thought tiredly. "That's fifteen minutes better than last time."

Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, the teen made his way to his bath. He still had time to go for a swim before coming back for breakfast.

* * *

The hair on his neck stood on its end. His senses heightened as the feeling of being watched washed over him.

The whimsical voices tittering around him from the sea creatures suddenly seemed too distracting. He drowned it all out – all except one.

_Hungry…Kill…Hungry_

A flash of pecked out eyes danced across his memories. Harry shuddered.

_"Time to leave," his inner voice warned. "NOW."_

He turned about, planning to swim back the way he came. But his plan was halted as he caught sight of what was lurking beneath him.

It was hard to miss the hungry gleam in those eyes.

_Kill…Hungry….Food_

Those sharp teeth that were gleaming were not good distractions either.

_…Hungry…Kill…_

Harry froze as the memories of the Chamber of Secrets resurfaced within his mind against his wishes. A crack appeared within his still rather new Occlumency shields. The panic he had learnt to keep suppressed sank its roots into his mind.

And in that momentary lapse, where the past haunted him, the Great White circling under him chose to attack.

* * *

Sirius Black cast a heating charm on the sandwiches, even as his eyes trailed back to glance at the open door of the cottage he lived in for the umpteenth time.

Harry was late.

Worry surged within him as the fact repeated over his mind a million times. He was quite unsure on what to do. Harry had always been back by ten in the morning at the very least to have breakfast.

Sirius stared aimlessly around, the silence in the room around him making it so prominent how alone he was. Even the furniture were quiet today, as though realizing the unusual absence of their owner was the premonition that something bad had happened to him.

Sirius shook his head, ridding himself of the negative thoughts.

Harry would be fine.

His pup had to be. The escaped convict glanced at the clock in the living room.

_A quarter after eleven._

The dread within his intensified at the time.

There was no point waiting anymore. He had to go to the goblins.

Harry was in trouble.

* * *

"Jadeclaw!"

Jadeclaw glanced up to greet the sight of his friend's slightly panic-stricken face.

"What?"

He had a feeling he knew exactly who was causing Griphook this much tension.

"It's Harrison."

He knew it.

"We need your assistance."

* * *

"What, pray tell," Jadeclaw exclaimed as cast a cleansing charm onto his charge's wounds, "Was your intelligence doing while you were attacked?"

Harry held back a grimace at the stinging sensation he felt while he paced about at the edge of the lake.

"Hitching a ride with panic."

He could feel Jadeclaw's eyes rolling without seeing it.

Meanwhile, Griphook and Fradgrot were having a more pleasant time satisfying their curiosity.

"Amazing," Griphook breathed. Fradgrot – who was taking notes by now – nodded in agreement.

"It's not amazing!" Harry snapped at his goblin friend.

Silence descended on the party of three goblins, one goblette and one wizard. Even Jadeclaw ceased his healing of the young wizard at Harry's unusually frustrated tone. The four goblin-blooded exchanged glances as they watched the wizard born pace.

"Fish? Are you alright?" Griphook broke the silence cautiously.

Harry whirled about, startled, having forgotten the existence of his present company in midst of his muttering.

"Wha – ?" His eyes fell on the frozen shark that lay on the edge of the lake. Its whole body was tinged with ice and blue.

"Can we save it?" He looked at his companions, unaware of his haphazard appearance or how there seemed to be a wild look in his eyes.

Jadeclaw rolled his eyes. "You tell me, fish. Look at how you've brought it."

Harry winced again. "I didn't mean to do it. It just happened when it was too close to getting a bite out of me."

"Harrison, you should be happy you were not eaten alive by the thing. Why in the world do you want to save it?"

"It was just hungry Jadeclaw. You cannot blame the creature for being hungry. Besides, I looked part fish. The creature was just acting on instinct."

"Still does not explain why you should bother trying to save the being," Griphook interrupted. "Honestly, just throw it back into the ocean."

"Griphook!" Harry stared at his goblin friend in outrage.

"Fish!" Griphook exclaimed back in reply. "It was a powerful predator but you were a more powerful being. Your reaction was completely instinctive. Why are you feeling guilty for having fought to survive?"

"I'm not feeling guilty," Harry denied.

The goblins surrounding him snorted. He glared at all four of them petulantly, uncaring if they were elders or not.

"Look, it's frozen. We can just unfreeze her. Yeah?"

The goblin Queen chose that moment to speak.

"Young one," Harry looked at her, internally glad she was not one of those who had been laughing at him, "Why do you want to save the creature?"

Harry started, as though he had forgotten for a moment that Akigla was there. "I…well…I don't know." The wizard child slumped down in distress. "I could have not hurt it but I panicked and made a mistake." He glanced at the stiff creature, feeling the coldness to its body despite being more than half a meter away from it.

He glanced back at his goblin companions. "It didn't have to die. I didn't mean to hurt it," Harry groaned from the ground as he sprawled against it in defeat.

* * *

Akigla stared at the subdued wizard in front of her, puzzled yet fondly exasperated at the same time. She had a feeling she knew exactly why he was in such conflict, why he felt so much guilt over harming a creature when it was not the first time he had taken a life in his thirteen years of living.

"Only you, young one," she thought fondly.

_His emerald eyes clouded over, thinking over the question she asked. She waited, patiently walking beside him in the leaf-strewn path._

_"Quirrell was not the first time I took a life."_

_Akigla stared at the child in surprise. That had been unexpected._

_"Back when I was with my relatives –," the child paused and took a deep breath. "Back then, being locked out of the house was something of a routine. Sometimes it wasn't bad. Sometimes it was."_

_His eyes grew distant as he lost himself in memories._

_"The first time I was locked out on a winter night, however, was clearly a bad time. I remember being hungry. Very, very hungry. I suppose they never fed me that day. And well, the cold was really not helping me, you know? Dudley's old clothes were always lacking in providing warmth. _

_I usually try to just sleep it out in one of the bushes that shield the ground from being snowed on. But that was one of the days where the hunger was unbearable. I was getting dizzy here and then. I remember wondering if that night, I would finally die due to starvation and the cold. I'll admit it was a depressing moment." _

_It was all said very nonchalantly, as though he was not affected by the events. But she knew it was a mask. A mask to keep her from reacting. The young one knew what she thought of his relatives with the little information he had shared before. But something about the child's emotionless face made her even more angry at the vile beings he had been put with as a child._

_She kept her face carefully blank. It would not do to further upset the boy._

_The little one turned his face to face her, staring at her with guarded eyes that truly should never belong on someone so young. She had the distinct impression he was weighing whether to tell her the truth or not. Whether she would judge or not._

_"A rat happened to scamper past me then. And between survival and dignity, the choice had not been hard to make."_

_Akigla felt the fury she had kept at bay uncurl with a vengeance at the tale. Young ones were blessings. They were to be cherished, not abandoned to scavenge for survival._

_She turned to face ahead, not trusting herself to successfully hide the anger she felt at his relatives._

_"That was the first time I killed a life, in my opinion. And I learnt to get over the guilt because I knew that otherwise, I would not survive. It was a miracle enough that I found a live rat on that winter night."_

_"Some would not count that as a proper kill, you know. Quirrell was the first human whose life you took."_

_The little one shrugged. "A rat, a human, a bird, a goblin. What of the outer skin being different? Each holds a life."And considering morals, it's wrong of me to kill any of it."_

_He sighed. _

_"To answer your question, no. I didn't feel guilty at Quirrell's death. At least not for long. Like I said, I've learnt to get over it. Because if he had not died that night, it meant I would have. By then, I was conditioned to survive, even it meant killing a rat, or killing a man."_

_The child winced, as though realizing how the words sounded. "I would not go about killing anybody to achieve something I want for selfish reasons like money or power," he explained. "But in situations like with Quirrell and the basilisk, well, I'll probably do the same thing I've already done. Because they are kill or be killed situations. There were also no other alternatives for me."_

_Another pause._

_She saw him turn to look at her again, from the corner of her eyes. She turned to meet his gaze._

_"Does that make me a bad person?"_

Akigla shook herself out of her thoughts, focusing on the emerald-eyed boy and her confused subjects. They did not understand why he was feeling guilt. None of them knew what the child confessed to her during his visits.

Her eyes trailed to the frozen shark lying by the edge of the lake.

_There were also no other alternatives for me._

Her gaze drifted back to the child.

_Because they are kill or be killed situations._

His eyes were clouded once more, but this time it was with – perhaps for the first time in a long time, she mused absently – guilt.

It was almost funny in a way that his first taste at facing his conscience and morals came by harming a random creature from the sea rather than the powerful adversaries he had faced in his younger years. But then, for all the rules and laws he bent, broke and ignored in his life, Akigla knew the child had never harmed anything out of selfishness or when he other choices. And considering he had many ways to escape with his new abilities, it was not a surprise that he was upset he panicked and blundered with the life of a creature that was only acting on its instinct. Perhaps having done the worst of all the options before him in his vulnerable moment was what was weighing heavily on his mind, considering his poor choice had resulted in harming the creature he was escaping from.

The boy truly perplexed her sometimes.

"Little one," she waited for the gaze of the child to rest upon her. "We can still _attempt_ to fix this. The shark is merely frozen. With how strong your abilities are, I would not be surprised that the being frozen in a way that has kept it in stasis, rather than providing it with a slow death as it would have if in natural circumstances. There is a _possibility_ that we can save it. Stand up, now."

He gave a subtle nod, understanding to not let his hopes up. But the gratitude shining in his eyes let her know he was happy they were trying at the very least.

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry sank into his godfather's embrace as the man held him tightly.

"Where did you go? How did you get here? Do you have any idea how scared I was?" Sirius rambled, checking over his pup for any injuries. His eyes on the slightly faded sting marks near his left cheek and arms. "What happened?"

"Ran into some corals," Harry muttered half-heartedly, unwilling to lie to the man after seeing his concern and worry.

"Wha –"

Sirius never got his reply as a splash interrupted their reunion. For the first time since entering the room, the man noticed the enormous pool fit for a giant, situated in the centre. And the two goblins who were throwing in some form of meat into it.

"Um…"

"They are feeding a shark." Harry supplied helpfully. "It was a hungry."

He looked at the man. "You want to meet it? It's a her actually. I named her Viva since she apparently has never been named before."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at his godson, wondering how the kid even knew the shark had no real name. Shaking his head, the man focused back on his godson.

"Harry. What happened? You were gone for so long."

Harry fidgeted, averting his eyes from his godfather.

"Ran into some troubles, I –" Harry paused at the small flicker of resignation and disappointment on his godfather's.

"Another one of the secrets?"

Harry sighed, unsure suddenly on how to handle the situation.

Taking his godfather's hand, Harry steered him back towards Griphook's office.

"Not here."

Sirius followed silently, confused yet curious.

"By the way, godfather," Harry started conversationally. "Do you know how to swim?"

* * *

Sirius Black gaped at the sight before him.

His pup had a tail. An honest-to-merlin tail. Granted it was a beautiful one, with golden-orange hues coupled with flecks of emerald and other colors depending on the spells Harry used but still.

A tail.

He looked at his little pup who was watching him with wary eyes. He caught the flash of fear as the child waited for his reaction.

Sirius broke into a bright smile under his bubblehead charm, swimming forwards to catch his surprised godson in a hug. His smile brightened as the little body in his arms relaxed against his acceptance.

* * *

"Wow, pup. That certainly puts any worry I had of you swimming alone at ease," Sirius said with a laugh as they sat on the sand, staring at the waves crashing onto the shore.

Harry smiled. "I'm sorry for not telling you before, Paddy. But you were someone new in my life despite my remembering you from when I was little and well," Harry glanced at the man's suddenly sombre expression. "Well, the wizarding world when I first came into it, there are so many prejudices, especially against creatures. I wasn't sure if you shared any of them."

"I don't have anything against creatures strongly pup."

At Harry's raised brow, Sirius explained, "I'll naturally be wary if a creature is capable of harming me because it is stronger or has powers capable of harming me. But I don't believe that they should be discriminated like how they are in our wizarding world. I had a friend who had – has," Sirius corrected himself, "Creature abilities, you know?"

"Oh," Harry stared at Sirius surprised.

"Yeah. He was a major reason why your dad encouraged our group to become animagi during our Hogwarts times."

"Who was it?"

Sirius shook his head. "I can't say pup. Not my secret to share."

Harry smiled, happy at the man's trustworthiness.

"So how did you become all fishy?"

Harry huffed, mocking annoyance and indignation. "Honestly! It's half fish! Even the goblins keep calling me fish! I am half fish!"

Sirius laughed. "Well, half-fish, do answer the question."

Harry shrugged. "I found myself in a special place where the moon worked its magic and whoosh," Harry waved his hands about, "Next thing I know I grow a tail every time I touch water."

Sirius grew concerned. "And how was the change? Painful? Are you happy with the change?"

Harry gave him a smile. "It was completely painless. And I'm very happy to have found it. It played a major role in me getting away from my relatives. And I finally found a home." Harry turned to look at the ocean. "The first time I was in the ocean. It was just," he searched for the word. "Right. It felt right. Like I belonged."

He turned to smile at Sirius again.

"I'm glad you're happy, pup."

Harry searched his godfather's face. "That friend of yours. He didn't have it that easy, did he?"

Sirius shook his head. "No. It was always painful for him."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Ah well. He just accepted along the way that he would forever be cursed by the moon I –"

"The moon does not curse," Harry snapped, interrupting the man before he could finish.

Sirius jumped, startled at the sudden anger rolling off his godson. Harry blinked, surprised by his own outburst.

"Well that was new," he muttered into the tense silence. "I'm sorry godfather. I don't know why I just did that."

Sirius waved his apology away. "It's fine. My mistake. I didn't know you were – protective? – of the moon."

"Neither did I." Harry blinked. "I mean, well I do like the moon, considering it played a major role in my change and all that. It's just, I've never gotten angry at someone saying bad about it."

"Maybe it's part of your creature nature?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe…"

The sudden rumbling of a stomach interrupted the contemplative silence that the duo fell into. Harry blushed.

"Sorry."

Sirius chuckled at his godson's embarrassment.

"No, pup. I'm sorry. I forgot you have yet to eat with all of today's excitement." Sirius stood, pulling Harry to his feet. "Come on, we can talk more over breakfast."

"You still have questions, Paddy?"

"Oh yes. Don't think I forgot about those sting marks on yourself when I saw you at Gringotts. And I have a feeling that shark did not get there by accident."

Harry groaned.

* * *

"Grounded?!" Harry exclaimed, dropping the last piece of his apple slice onto his plate. "Why?"

"You almost got eaten by a shark, pup."

"It was an accident. It happened once. I didn't realize it was there."

"And exactly why were you so distracted that you were not aware of your surroundings?"

Harry glared sullenly at his plate. "I was daydreaming."

"Exactly. You let your guard down in a place that was dangerous." Sirius held up his hand to stop the protest forming on Harry's lips. "I'm sure the ocean is wonderful in its own right, pup. You've given me quite the description. But it can be dangerous too from what you experienced earlier. From shark to corals to jellyfish and many other things that are unknown. You cannot just drop your guard because you've only seen good things in it. And your recklessness could have cost your life. And none of us – the goblins or me – would have known what had happened to you when you could be anywhere in the sea!"

Harry deflated. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"I know. But I think you should learn from this."

"But why grounding?"

"You are going to spend time reflecting rather than just heading off to the ocean again. Think about the whole situation and learn from what you did wrong from the moment you didn't pay attention to your surroundings to the moment you froze that shark. If you ever come into such a situation, you need to not repeat your mistakes. You still remember how guilty you felt with the shark, don't you?"

Harry looked down at his plate. "Yes, godfather."

"Come on now pup. I'm letting you off easy, you know. The grounding is only three days since we are both new to this," Sirius waved between the two of them, "godfather, godson relationship."

Harry smiled softly. "So this is how my punishments will be when I misbehave?"

"More or less, depending on the situation." At Harry's wary look, Sirius sighed. "I won't raise my hand or wand against you, pup. Is this because of those Dursleys?"

Harry stared at the man for a minute, gauging how his reaction would be. "Yes. Their punishments involved beatings." Harry looked at his plate again. "Or more chores, withholding food or locking me up."

Harry risked a glance at Sirius when the tensed silence grew long. He stared in shock as he caught sight of the man trying to reign in his magic which seemed to have seeped out of him in his anger.

Sirius took a deep breath reigning in his magic with difficulty.

"Sorry about that, pup. I suppose I should discuss ground rules with you." Sirius moved his seat closer to his godson, hugging him to his chest. "I won't ever raise my hand on you pup. Nor will I raise my wand against you to do you harm. I give you my word on magic for that."

Harry snuggled closer to the man at the magic that washed over him at the words.

"And as for punishments for when you do something wrong, we'll talk it out together. I won't withhold meals from you. Worse ever that it will come to, may be not having desserts for a few days, but you will always have meals. Three healthy, full meals.

And while usually guardians do keep their charges confined to their rooms if they are bad, we won't have that in our house because I think both you and I have each been locked up to last us a lifetime."

Harry gave a weak smile at that.

"I'm not saying I'm an expert but doesn't grounding usually involve kids being in their rooms for some time, Paddy?"

Sirius shrugged. "Not necessarily. For us, grounding will just have to mean you can't go swimming or you can't go hang out with your friends."

Harry groaned at the first restriction.

Sirius grinned, "See pup. The thought itself seems effective, with no locking up involved."

"Now, chores will be something we will all share appropriately within our house, like we are doing now. And I will be taking over some more once the goblins deem me fit." Sirius gave Harry a stern look. "No protests. You are still a kid. Most of your time should be on having fun at this age, not taking care of an entire house."

"I suppose that's reasonable."

Sirius tightened his arms around him. "You are truly ok with the ground rules?"

Harry shrugged from where he had buried his face in the man's chest.

"You do realize though, that I won't always be cooperative, don't you godfather?"

Sirius gave him an enquiring look.

"The main reason I am living alone after the Dursleys without even a house-elf is because I like my new freedom, godfather. I like very much that I can do anything, reckless or not without anyone trying to control me for no good reason. And while you mean well, I've never really trusted an adult fully to take care of my well being." Harry swallowed. "If I really cannot accept your reaction to something I've done, I might very well not listen to you. And I don't know if it'll be a fun time for us then." He looked up to meet the man's silver eyes. "Do you think you can still live with me being like that?"

"Even if you scream and kick me out of this house, which I really hope you won't, I'll always want to be with you, pup. Don't need to fear me leaving you anytime soon. And if you really, really don't agree with something I do, how about we try talking things out before you go all rebellious hmm?" Sirius asked, tickling Harry's sides to get him to smile.

Harry hugged him more tightly. "Thanks."

"Not a problem, kid. It's about time I took care of you as I should have from the start. I love you, pup. Don't forget that."

Harry closed his eyes as he felt himself tearing up against his wishes. He did not reciprocate Sirius' words – he had yet to love the man unconditionally like the man did Harry. So he squeezed his godfather tighter in a hug, turning his face to give the man a look of happiness and gratitude.

Sirius returned the hug, understanding shining in his eyes.

* * *

"Oh this is a perfect fit," Sirius said with a smile as a strong wind blew into the room, rushing towards Sirius who was surrounded by silver and golden sparks. It circled about him playfully. Sirius laughed as he was slightly lifted into the air before the wind disappeared and he landed on his feet.

Harry, who was standing at the corner, smiled along with the wandmaker who clapped his hands at the display. "That would be fifteen galleons, Mr Dogstar."

Sirius fished out the money. "Thank you very much."

"You are very welcome, sir. I am sorry I could not help your charge."

Harry who by now had stepped beside Sirius, waved his hand. "Oh, it is fine, sir. I'm sure I'll find a solution sometime in the future. Thanks for making my Uncle his custom wand."

The duo waved and left the shop.

"So Uncle Dogstar," Harry started teasingly. Sirius groaned.

"Look pup, my improvisation skills are rusty. No need to rub it in."

Harry threw back his head, laughing loudly at his godfather. "Seriously though? You are supposed to pick an alias that does not give you away. Why did you say Dogstar of all things? You are literally throwing them a bone to find out you are Sirius."

Sirius mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "little kids and knowing constellations and mean dog jokes."

Harry snickered but decided to give his godfather a break. "So where to next? We have an hour more to shop."

"You still need a wand core."

Harry waved the matter aside. "It may take too long. We should shop for other things first, like anything you need to decorate your room. There is no guarantee we will find my missing core soon. We've already been to three different wand shops."

Sirius accepted the explanation. "Alright then. But can we find a hidden alley first pup," Sirius dragged his godson about. "Blonde hair and blue eyes do not suit me. Not one bit. I am changing this glamour now that I have a wand."

Harry snickered again, not bothering to tell the man that he was not going to change the goblin glamour without the help of a goblin. He would find out soon anyway.

* * *

Harry glared at the roses that were seemingly changing tunes according to his progress with freezing the glass of juice he had in front of him.

Perhaps practising in the garden had been a bad idea.

He willed the juice to freeze slowly, scowling as the juice froze over in a matter of seconds.

The roses' song turned into something that sounded suspiciously like they pitied him. Harry turned his glare to the annoying flowers.

"Honestly," he thought. "When Lyria said they would be a handful, I didn't realize it will be this bad."

"Are you done being mocked by flowers?"

The juice in front of him sailed across from its glass to Sirius' startled face.

"Oops," Harry said innocently before refilling the glass.

"That was mean," Sirius grumbled as the roses started to let out sounds of tingling bells, laughing at Sirius outright.

"You deserved it," Harry replied, focusing back on his task.

* * *

"Good evening, Malfoy. You wanted to talk?" Harry stared at the pale boy in front of him, carefully keeping his expression blank. He inwardly smirked at Malfoy when the boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion at Harry's neutral face and polite tone.

"Yes, I did, Potter." A subtle glance was given to his right hand, the slight widening of his eyes the only indication that Malfoy was shocked at the Black heir ring glistening there along with the Potter Lord ring. Harry supposed Malfoy did not believe it when Narcissa mentioned – and Harry was sure Narcissa would have mentioned it – about him being the next heir to the Black line.

"Well, what do you wish to talk about?"

"My mother," Malfoy started with a drawl, "Recently requested me to get along with you. Imagine my surprise at that when she pulled me aside randomly to state that wish and to realise she firmly believed that you would not be averse to the idea. I don't like going against my mother's wishes but neither am I foolish enough to blindly follow her wishes with no question."

Harry wondered if he extended the same logic to his father's wishes, considering Malfoy's behaviour at Hogwarts. It was not likely. Then again, Malfoy not following his mother's requests blindly in itself was surprising.

_"He is a Slytherin. Would it be that surprising if his following his father's beliefs is also an act in the end?" his inner voice reasoned._

Harry hid his doubts under his mask. He would have to ponder that possibility afterwards.

"So I would like to use this opportunity, with no driving forces of our Hogwarts Houses and the like, to speak to you and perhaps get an understanding as to what you seem to be aspiring towards with this rather unexpected move."

Harry had to hide a smile at Malfoy's politeness. Despite the pale boy's emotionless face, the suspicion in his eyes was clear for anyone to see. And he had a feeling Malfoy really did not like acting civil with him.

"Nothing underhanded, I assure you. I merely requested her help in learning the traditions of the wizarding world this summer. While we were at that, we learned to put our differences aside, and your mother was kind enough to acknowledge the fact that I am family. I suppose she simply wants to encourage you and I to be more cordial, considering it would make her life easier. And my agreement to the matter comes from her assurance that you are not as bent on pureblood supremacy as you preach, which would certainly make it possible to get along with you."

Malfoy hummed a nonchalant agreement. "I suppose. If you don't mind me asking, why are you suddenly interested in learning the Old ways? You have been disregarding them for so long."

"I have not disregarded the traditions at all." Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the denial. "I cannot disregard that which I was ignorant of, can I?"

"What? Potter, are you trying to tell me you had no idea of the customs and traditions all this time? You, the Gryffindor Golden boy? The Savior?" Malfoy exclaimed, neutrality forgotten as he sneered at Harry.

"Is it that hard to believe that I was ignorant of my own heritage and wealth? Or did you honestly believe I wore hand-me-downs because I like tattered torn clothes and that I celebrate Halloween instead of Samhain because I like sweets?"

The faint pink coating Malfoy's cheeks gave Harry his answer.

"Seriously? Not one of you ever thought I simply did not know anything?"

"Everybody expected you to know of it," Malfoy shrugged in reply. Harry tried to suppress his irritation at the reply. Of course everybody expected it. But nobody ever had the common sense to teach him or check on his welfare, did they? Even when it was common knowledge he lived with muggles and walked around in clothes too big for him.

"Well, now you know otherwise. I recently chanced upon my heritage. And your mother was the best candidate to help me out as while she strongly believes, respects and practices the od ways, she was not a supporter of pureblood supremacy. Working with her is nice and her acceptance of me makes the relationship all the more easier."

Harry stared at the contemplative Malfoy heir. "So, is there anything else you wanted to know from me?"

"Why do you want to learn the Old ways?" Harry frowned, not understanding what Malfoy meant. "I mean, you were ignorant before, yes I got that. But even knowing about it now, why are you eager to learn it? I thought you were a Muggle supporter, Potter. Are you terminating your friendship with Granger now?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Malfoy scion. "I am not terminating my friendship with Hermione, Malfoy. I want to learn the traditions because I have been informed that they are a part of what makes my family. And learning them grants me an insight to my own family's way of life. And by Muggle supporter, if you mean I do not believe in eradicating or harming muggles for no good reason, then yes. I was and still am one. Just because I'm proud to be a wizard does not mean I have notions of supremacy about myself to believe I am superior to someone without magic."

Malfoy nodded, accepting the answer.

"Do you truly mean it when you said you want a truce with me to my mother, Potter?"

Harry nodded. "You are family. Distant relatives but still family. I do not have much of those living now so I'd rather not break ties with any unless we truly cannot get along. And I think you and I can get along if you do not go out of your way to antagonize me."

Malfoy gave him an affronted look. "I only give retribution for your acts of aggression."

Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I declined your friendship because _you_ were impolite and snobbish, Malfoy. Don't go blaming me for your poor attitude and its resulting consequences."

"You humiliated me when I tried to be nice to you, Potter!"

"Malfoy," Harry started in exasperation. "You waltzed into the train car I was in without so much as a knock, insulted the first friend I have ever made in my entire life, was blatantly rude and then got angry that I was not impressed to have your company? You also went out of your way to get me in trouble for two years now, you arse."

The pink coating returned to Malfoy's cheeks. "Alright, I took the retribution a tad too far but you deserved."

"How?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"You're annoying, Potter."

"That's it Malfoy? Gee here I thought you had better insults," Harry replied sarcastically though a small smile rested on his lips.

Somehow, their banter lacked the usual viciousness the two of them displayed in Hogwarts.

Malfoy's lips twitched slightly. "It was a rather poor attempt, wasn't it?"

"The poorest," Harry nodded.

"Ah well, maybe it's a sign I should give up bothering you," Malfoy stated with a sad sigh.

"Was that a truce?" Harry enquired amusedly.

"I suppose. Look, I won't lie, Potter. I can't like you overnight. But I admit today's conversation was enlightening and decent for the two of us. I'm willing to try to be cordial, for my mother's sake at the least."

Harry nodded. "That's acceptable. I'll try to be less annoying too." He smiled as Malfoy's lips twitched again. "But I won't stand if you insult me or my friends, alright? Or if you preach about pureblood supremacy and the like." Harry paused, catching the flash of conflict in Malfoy's eyes. Narcissa's words drifted to Harry's mind. "Your mother mentioned you were of the same stance as her. If that's true, why do you act different in Hogwarts?"

The conflict heightened in Malfoy's eyes.

"Whatever you mention here will not leave this room unless you wish it, Malfoy."

Malfoy sighed. "You are aware of my father's strong stance, are you not, Potter?"

Harry nodded. "I am. I have a very strong feeling that even if we form a truce and you and your mother get along well with me, your father will probably remain hostile with me."

"You would be correct. My father is strong in his beliefs and while he is a great parent, this belief of his is something he cannot seem to negotiate about for anything. He knows I do not agree with him as does my mother. But I act the way I do because to not do so would give others a weakness to prey upon us. And it's expected of me anyway, considering everybody knows my father supports the Dark Lord."

Harry stared at the desk. That made more sense that it did not. Having experienced how easily Narcissa accepted him just because he was family, he was not surprised that all three of the Malfoys would value family so.

"But if you keep pretending like that, how can people believe you to be better?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I will find a way to survive in this world no matter what people think of me, Potter."

"So would this pose trouble for your family to suddenly play nice with me" Harry asked concerned.

Malfoy gave a smirk. "Not really. You may even pose as that ticket for us to stop pretending without anyone trying to harm my family, Potter. We could always say you influenced my mother and I and lie that father is the slowly changing. Your presence as the Scarheaded Savior will finally be useful."

Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Malfoy to think that.

"Anyway, back to the matter at hand. You know my real beliefs and all that. Mind you, if your friends are really annoying I will still provide them with snarky remarks, so if you want a truce you're going to have to live my personality."

Harry shrugged. "As long as you don't try to actively get under their skin or truly mean them harm, I'm willing to call a truce with you. I really don't want to waste my time at Hogwarts fighting with you.

"You should be happy that you got to be graced with my presence, Potter."

"Don't," Harry said with a deadpan expression.

"Alright, alright."

Malfoy stood, raising his hand to shake. "I suppose that brings us to the end of this rather awkward meeting."

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his hand. "I suppose. I'll apologies to appease you. Sorry if I ever hurt your feelings in the past."

Malfoy hummed. "Right back at you, Potter. I'm sorry for being an arse as you so eloquently put it."

"Call me Harry. I'll see you around at Hogwarts."

"Draco," Malfoy replied in kind before leaving with a small wave of his hand.

Harry stared at the closed door. He wondered just how he would explain this development to Hermione and Ron. Ah well, he would cross that bridge when he came to that.

* * *

**A/N: Advanced Happy New Year yall!**

**PS: If Harry's grandmother is a Black, what would Draco's relation to Harry be called? I never did understand the terms to call your family in English. Help an author out will ya? ****(￣▽￣*)ゞ **


	14. Unpredictable

Harry supposed grounding was not an immensely terrible punishment as he slowly let his magic wash over the perfectly frozen ice block in front of him.

He had food, plenty of space to roam around his home and many things to do that kept him occupied so that he did not die of boredom. And he also had the feeling Sirius was simply gleeful at the prospect that the two of them got extra hours to spend together for three days, which was heartwarming to know.

But in all honesty, not swimming was _slightly_ agonizing.

It had startled Harry just how much he had become used and dependent on the ocean after being forced to stay away from it. And the fact unsettled him slightly if he were to be honest.

He had to stop himself from spending a few hours in his bath – which the goblins had helpfully turned into a pool – just so that Sirius' grounding did not become useless. The man was really trying and Harry did not want to ruin their chances at being a real family simply because he could not swim for three days. Besides, it was only the first day and Harry would lose his prank streak against Sirius before he would admit that not being near the ocean was affecting him terribly.

He _would_ survive through this three-day ocean-ban if it was the last thing he did.

His magic inspected the frozen cube curiously while it infused itself bit by bit into the frozen state of water. The process was slow but Harry was glad something was at least happening rather than nothing. Bit by bit, he could feel the faint connection had with the ice cube strengthening. He coaxed his magic gently, encouraging it to continue its slow fusion with the ice.

It was really satisfying to see some success after so long of failure. He supposed he should have thought of this method first instead of trying to freeze water according to will. If he succeeded in connecting himself to the solid form of water, he should have an easier time manipulating water to become ice at his will.

He felt Sirius shift beside him on the couch but did not turn to look. He knew the man was either watching him or continuing to read his books on transfiguration – Mastery level. Harry had asked Sirius exactly what he planned to do after gaining freedom – and Sirius would get freedom, Harry would make sure of it – and the man had realized he had spent so long bent on thinking to catch the rat and recovering for Harry's sake that he had not thought of his own future. For now, he planned to resume the Mastery he had considered to take some time before the war tore his life apart. Sirius was not sure he still wanted it but it was a good place to start than anywhere else. Thankfully, the man had had no trouble revising his previous material and picking up where he had left of before his stay in Azkaban with the goblin healers and tutors help.

Harry felt it when his magic gave a contended buzz as it connected fully with the ice, swirling about, becoming a seamless part of the unassuming block of ice. A pleasant coldness washed over him at the success. Harry sighed, slouching onto the couch, a little tired but happy nonetheless at his first success with ice. For a cube so small, it certainly drained his magic to sync with it. He would have to do it a few more times before he could do the process as well as he does with water in its liquid state.

"Got what you were hoping to do?" Sirius asked. Harry turned to see the man flip a page in his book, looking slightly distracted as his brain tried to read and converse at the same time.

"Yep." Harry raised his hand, drawing Sirius' attention to him and the ice block which was raising itself slowly from the ground and twirling and dancing about.

"Wandless levitation?" Sirius asked. He was not surprised anymore at Harry doing magic without a wand after learning the truth.

"Nope. Not a levitation spell but simple connection with the ice particles," Harry stated happily.

"You've got it!" Sirius smiled.

Harry nodded. "A bit more practice and I can say it's in the bag confidently."

"Good job pup."

The ruffling of his hair brought a smile to Harry's face. Then the two returned to their own matters, focusing on their tasks each.

"Honestly, grounding is not that terrible," Harry thought as he focused back on mastering his magic.

* * *

"We've found the new wards that settled onto your home."

Harry settled the drinks he brought over onto the coffee before settling next Sirius on the armchair to face Griphook and Barknas – the goblin chief of the group of warders that helped fortify the wards on his cottage.

"What are they?"

"Blood wards."

Harry tensed. Sirius placed an arm around him in an attempt to comfort. Sensing Harry needed time, he took over the conversation.

"How? He's not living with anyone of Lily's blood in this house."

Barknas stared at Sirius. "But Lord Potter lives with you and your blood runs in his veins."

Harry's eyes snapped up from where he was staring at the coffee table. "What?" He turned to face Sirius, who was looking confused himself, with an enquiring look.

"I don't quite get it either pup, unless…" Sirius sat up straight. "I've done a ritual on Harry before when he was three months old with Lily and James as the witness. It was to bind myself as his godfather by magic's creed. There was a part where he and I exchanged three drops of blood."

Harry made a face at the description.

"It was a necessary part, pup," Sirius explained, "A sort of blood adoption where I see you are acknowledged to be my family, granting you with the status equivalent as my son and your parents grant me the status equivalent to theirs. It was a fail-safe we had to ensure there would always be someone to look after you. We did it with your godmother too, Alice Longbottom. And your parents returned the favor of the same ritual with little Neville since your mother was godmother for him."

Harry stayed silent. He knew Neville's relation to him. The potion he took had been clear. He had done his best to find out about Neville's parents after that. And the answers he found at the medical ward in St Mungo's still haunted him. His godmother's actions of handing him a sweet wrapper – which was something he had learnt she only did when Neville came around – had only served to further tighten the horrid feeling that had coiled around his chest.

Harry had left immediately afterwards. He was sure he would have cried then and there if he had to stay, despite the fact that he had never cried in front of others in years (if one were to mercifully ignore the panic attack incident in front of Griphook this summer).

The fact that Neville most probably felt the bitterness and unfairness of the situation a hundred times worse than him had done nothing to brighten his mood.

Harry forced his mind back to the present. He could dwell on somber truths when he was alone.

"I suppose magic judging the ritual has a greater importance in the ritual if the _Ruehmhtana_ potion only stated you were my magic-bound godfather and not blood bound. But if you sort of blood adopted me, how come I don't have any of your features?"

Sirius shrugged.

"It is a unique way of adopting, pup. As much as I would have loved to adopt you as my son, Lily would have had skinned me alive if I had done that and then tossed my remains for James to take care of."

Sirius shuddered.

"That particular ritual does the same as all other blood adoptions but does not complete the last aspect to seal the adoption fully which is changing your features to reflect my family line's so that you can integrate well into the family. However, it is unique in that it still grants me the same legal guardianship over you as it would have if I had adopted you the common blood ritual. Obviously, we can do it now if you want but I reckon you don't want to lose your mother's eyes and nose or the rest of your father's face you seem to carry."

"Huh." Harry sank back into his part of the couch at the news.

"But would that affect Harrison's magical abilities?"

Sirius turned to look at Griphook who had spoken. "As in?"

"You mentioned the adoption does everything but change the features of the child. He has your blood even if he is not your son and he is your magical heir in all rights since the Black ring accepted him. Would your family magic influence his abilities in the future?"

Sirius shrugged. "I have no idea, Griphook. But I doubt it considering I exchanged took in his blood too as part of the ritual and I do not have Potter family magic of any kind."

"But your intent was focused on giving. Giving Harrison a home with you if needed as part of your family. Not joining his family by integrating yourself into it. That can complicate matters. There is a reason only the child undergoes changes in an adoption done through magic."

"We can ponder that later," Harry interrupted. "I have enough new abilities to juggle with right now. What I would like to know, is how that affects the blood wards that have currently settled into our home?"

"I only have theories, unfortunately."

"That is fine, Barknas. A theory is better than nothing," Harry stated.

Barknas nodded.

"You have mentioned that you remember your mother researching into ways to protect you and the family approximately about a month after you were born, correct? I believe she did more than research the spells and knowledge. She tinkered with them too to fit your circumstance so that you would have the best protection."

Barknas took a sip of his drink.

"Since you, Lord Black, adopted Lord Potter by blood and would be the next best candidate to house and protect her son, I believed she tweaked the sacrificial magic from the ritual she used to protect Lord Potter to work on any home Lord Potter and you would call home, effectively protecting her son and her son's caretaker from harm from those that wish either of you harm."

Sirius whistled.

Barknas sipped his drink again. "Yes. A brilliant piece of magic. And if Lady Potter actually managed it within less than a year, it is very impressive. For now this is the only explanation I can think of without any evidence of the actual set of runes Lady Potter used. The structure and readings from the current wards settling in your home corroborates with it."

Harry's mind was in a whirlwind. "Is it likely to have had any other implication? Her changing of the blood that the magic was to tie itself to. Would that not mean the eleven years I spent with the Dursleys were just a waste if the magic did not hold itself with Petunia's blood?"

Barknas shrugged. "Once again, it is a guessing game, Lord Potter. The wards on Privet Drive have shattered and if they were weak, which is the most likely case considering your relatives attitude towards you, the residue magic from it is sure to have vanished by now. So we cannot fathom anything from that. And I would rather not take Albus Dumbledore's words when it comes to such matters despite his accomplishments. Her tweaking may have rendered it impossible for you to have good blood wards while living with your maternal aunt or it may not. But at the end of the day it does not matter, does it, considering in both cases your living there would not have paved way for good wards with how your relatives' act towards anything magic?"

Harry mused that that was indeed a god point. Even if there had been blood wards present, they were probably weak and useless since Petunia had no love to dish out for him.

"Are you saying Harry has probably been living with no protections whatsoever for eleven years?" The silent anger simmering in Sirius' tone sent chills down Harry's spine and he was happy his godfather's anger was not directed at him.

The goblin shrugged again, unaffected by the Black Lord's anger. "Yes, if you mean protection on the house – that is the blood wards – were useless. However, Lord Potter has always and will always retain his mother's protection in his blood. That is a reason why these blood wards have been able to create themselves over your current home."

Harry perked up in sudden curiosity. "Wait, if they simply create themselves, are you saying that Dumbledore had virtually done nothing to aid in their creation? They just form themselves as long as the right conditions are met?"

Barknas nodded. "These are sentient magic works. They need no aid in casting unless requirements are not met. Your mother already did most of the work, Lord Potter."

Harry put his head in his hands. "That's not what Dumbledore said."

The three other occupants in the room exchanged looks. "Elaborate please."

"He said during the meeting that Petunia taking me in _sealed the charm he placed on me_ when I all but demanded he explain himself to me or I'd bring his deeds to the Wizengamot."

"You threatened Dumbledore?" Sirius asked with a look mixed with concern and awe.

"I was rash, angry and young and therefore foolishly courageous," Harry stated with a blank face before turning back to Barknas. "Please tell me he did not mess up more."

Barknas meanwhile had descended into silence, mulling over the information. "Are you sure he said that?"

"Positive."

"Well, that's extremely foolish of him then."

Harry repressed the groan he wanted to let out.

"You have to know, Lord Potter. Magic is a complicated matter that is very much sentient in its own right. Such things like blood protection wards are things that occur naturally and strengthen naturally depending on the conditions required. Usually it takes about a few days for the wards to form naturally if the bond between the person being protected and the family member who chooses to protect is strong. In other cases like yourself and Lord Black, where you are still getting to know one another, it will take a little longer but would not exceed for more than say a week as long as there is true care and concern in the heart of your protector who lives with you.

Dumbledore's method of invoking is not wrong per say, just not advisable. It rushes the magic to place the wards before magic can do her own judgments. Such invoking only happens when the person being protected is in terrible danger and they do not have the luxury of time to let the wards settle in."

Harry frowned. He did have to wonder why Dumbledore invoked the protection if what Barknas mentioned was true. Because despite what Dumbledore said about him being in danger of having found out by Death Eaters while he was young, Harry knew that most of the Death Eaters had been reeling too much from the shock of their Master's death and trying to find ways to ensure their status and escape ways were secure to have had actively gone to search for him. His research so far into the night his parents were murdered and the resulting chaos going around the wizarding world told him that much. He would have had at least a week before any goo Death Eater had started to hunt him down to kill him. And even then he knew enough now to speculate that most of the wizards and witches intending to find him would have searched within the wizarding world first before even thinking that the Boy-Who-Lived may have been shipped off to live with muggles. Which meant there would have been plenty of time for the blood wards between him and Petunia to form and strengthen after Dumbledore had left him at the Dursleys' doorsteps.

So Dumbledore really had no need to invoke those protections immediately.

_"Unless he knew already that the blood wards would not likely form in the house with Petunia as your guardian," his inner voice laid out the likely truth bluntly._

Harry clenched his teeth as a bitter taste filled his mouth.

"But that certainly answers one of our questions," Barknas drew back his attention to the conversation, unaware of Harry's silent anger, "If he had indeed cast a charm and felt it being sealed with your maternal aunt taking you in, there had indeed been blood wards in that house. Not strong proper ones, but still. Better than nothing."

Harry could not keep from grumbling under his breath.

"By the way," Sirius interrupted. "I couldn't help but notice you mentioned the wards were settling when you first mentioned them. Why have they not yet settled finished?"

"It seems Lord Potter considers the woods surrounding this cottage to also count as home for the two of you. Therefore the wards have anchored onto the house and are currently spreading their influence over the woods."

"But that is an entire island!" Harry exclaimed.

Barknas shrugged. "Magic is an unpredictable matter, Lord Potter. It is limited yet it knows no bounds."

"But seriously –"

"You are the one considering it home, fish," Griphook, who had so far quietly sipped his drink, interrupted.

Harry scowled, and then blanched as a new thought came to him.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, glancing in concern at his godson's worried face.

"Um, is there a limit to how far these wards can go?" Harry squeaked, momentarily distracted from all of his previous morose thoughts as a new, random (and somewhat ridiculous but terrifying) thought flitted into his mind.

"It is limited to the entire area you consider home and the area should be firstly unclaimed by anybody else and secondly must be directly accessible from where your house stands, Lord Potter," Barknas replied. "Say if you consider that magic school of yours – Hogwarts – your home, it will not extend the wards to the school since your home and this island is separated by much distance and land that you do not consider home."

Griphook stared at the paling countenance of his client. "Why are you curious about that fish?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that I consider the ocean a part of my home and its right next door to the forest and within walking distance from my house," Harry replied.

Sirius sprayed the tea he was drinking in shock and Griphook and Barknas both grew identical smirks.

"Please tell me that won't actually happen, right?"

Barknas shrugged while Griphook continued smirking. "We'll never know. Just wait and we'll find out."

Harry had a feeling they knew and were simply keeping it secret so that he would feel bad.

"Mean goblins," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Well if that is all, we should be getting a move on. Oh and Lord Potter, if you are not against it, can you send me any memories where you were able to get a good look at whatever your mother researched, over to me? I may be able to figure out what she did if possible. The chances are low considering you were a youngling then but it would be good to try."

Harry nodded. "Before you go, though, would these wards affect the creatures living near the woods? I do not wish for any of the animals to be displaced or disturbed by the new magic."

Barknas thought it over. "Not likely. This place itself is soaked in latent magic from the presence of magical creatures over so many years and the wards will not affect any creatures since they are more specific for evil intending wizards, especially the Dark Lord and his followers. If you are in harm from a creature, the original wards have measures to protect you and Lord Black from them."

Harry nodded. "Alright. Thank you. I'll send you the memories, if any, within two days. Good day, Master Barknas."

"Good day, Lord Potter."

Harry watched the goblin leave via the Floo before turning to his unusually quiet guest.

"Well, Griphook. How can I help you? You've been unusually quiet."

Griphook shrugged. "I am in no hurry to return and I've heard your mutt –" Sirius scowled at the description, " – has an Occlumency session with Fradgrot today. I cannot say no to entertainment."

Harry laughed as Sirius' face paled at the reminder.

"Well, you are welcome to stay," he said brightly, ignoring Sirius' pout at his "betrayal", as he cleared the coffee table of all the drinks except for Griphook's and went to the kitchen to make lunch.

"I hope you like eating fish for lunch, Grippy."

* * *

"I don't understand why you insisted on coming, pup. I'd rather you stay home, safe."

Harry shrugged, even as he curiously gazed at the sight of two houses shifting aside to reveal an unknown house.

"Really, pup. There are still people who knew I lived here and can come looking or me if I do not change the wards quick enough."

"Well, then it is all the more better I am with you since if they wish to capture you, I can whisk you back to home with my ring."

"You can't portkey inside the house. It'll rip you apart, the wards," Sirius warned as he lead them to the porch of the grim looking house quickly and discreetly.

"Then I'll just have to freeze the people coming after you. I can do that better now."

Sirius shot his godson a scandalized look. "Pup no. Remember how long you wallowed with freezing that shark?"

"That was accidental and I had reason to feel guilty. That shark did not have to die and thank magic it didn't! This is different. We would be fighting to keep each other safe and if it really comes down to it, I'd rather have those people chasing after you to probably have you kissed by a Dementor harmed than having to see you gone," Harry stated firmly, signaling the end of the topic.

Sirius squeezed his shoulder slightly. "OK, pup. I got it."

They entered the house, staring in silence at its terrible state.

"Wow, when you said it will be bad, I didn't think it'll be this bad."

Sirius sighed as he dropped his disguise as soon as the door creaked shut behind them. "Welcome to my hell hole. Be careful about the noise you make, my mother's portrait is nasty."

It seemed the portrait had been waiting for those words, however. The sound of curtains opening a few feet ahead of them was all the warning Harry got before an ear-splitting shriek tore across the entire house.

"WHO DARES ENTER THE NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK?"

The portraits' eyes landed on Sirius and Harry who had by then walked further into the house. Despite Sirius' hatred and very biased description of his mother, Harry certainly could not manage to see a monster in the woman's painting. If one paused to look, they could clearly see that she must have been a beautiful woman in her youth, especially, what with her high cheekbones, full lips and obsidian eyes.

But the shouting certainly was unappealing, considering it botched up her whole face in a gruesome manner.

"YOU!" It seemed, Sirius mother returned Sirius' hatred with equal intensity. "YOU UNWORTHY, MUGGLE-LOVING SCUM. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO STEP BACK INTO THIS SACRED GROUNDS OF THE HOUSE OF BLACK, YOU TRAITOR – "

What else the woman had to say, Harry never knew since the curtains were forcibly closed by an agitated Sirius. The man turned to him with a tight-lipped smile, gesturing towards the living room silently. Harry followed him.

"Well, you've met my mother, pup. That was Walburga Black, loving mother of Regulus Black but tormentor of your godfather's childhood."

Harry patted his godfather's arm in comfort, having no reassurance to give the man. He could make out faint hurt in Sirius' expression despite the emotion being well masked. He could not really blame the guy for still being affected by his mother's rejection of him, despite all the abuse he had probably endured under her. It _was_ his mother. Sirius had the right to feel hurt, even if the hurt was diminished and fading with the years to be replaced with hatred and disgust.

"Well, I thought you mentioned there was a house-elf here? Is he sick? I think the poor thing must be if the house is in such a state," Harry tried changing the topic.

But it seemed everything Black seemed to bring Sirius unhappiness.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Kreacher is as bad as my mother. He probably left the house in this state to spite me on the off chance that I did return."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Well. That was certainly not very House Elfish.

"Kreacher!"

A pop signaled the arrival of the Black House Elf, dressed in a dirty old tea towel.

"Master," the elf bowed. Harry narrowed his eyes at the show of respect that clashed with Sirius' description of the elf. His suspicion was answered soon enough.

"Traitor son, come back to soil my Mistress' home with his mudblood friends. Oh if Mistress were to know…" the elf muttered under his breath, unaware that his voice carried across the silent house.

Harry's brows rose again, disbelief at how insane the elf must be to be in this state. Still hearing the insult to his family blood made him boil slightly nonetheless.

"Kreacher!" Sirius snapped, breaking both Harry and the elf from their reveries. The elf looked at Sirius with obvious hatred though Harry seemed to find its eyes seemed to glaze over now and then for no reason. Uneasiness settled into his gut. The elf really needed help, in his opinion.

"If you ever insult my godson again, you'll regret it you senile little idiot. He is you Master as much as I am and you better respect and obey him as you should."

If Harry had heard Sirius words, he was sure to have been grateful for the defense on his behalf but he was too preoccupied with the elf in front of him.

At first glance, he had been willing to dismiss Kreacher's behavior and insanity with the obvious lonely life the elf had led for more than twelve years with only the crazy portrait of Walburga Black for company. But the purple link he found connecting the elf and him worried him. It was not only faded but something twisted around it sinisterly. Something that the elf seemed to have found a way to keep away from him but Harry wondered how long the elf had been battling the thing to have come to such a state.

Sirius seemed to have more things to say to elf. Harry drowned out the conversation between elf and Master as he inspected the link closer, sending a tiny tendril of his magic towards the sinister magic draining the elf ever so slowly.

He regretted the action as soon as his magic came into contact with the thing.

White light burst around him in a circle as his magic threw itself out around him. A searing hot pain lit up his scar. Harry clutched his forehead with his left hand while he waved his right desperately to ensure Sirius and Kreacher were not affected by his magic's unexpected lashing out. A white dome came around the two mere seconds before his magic passed by them with how close they stood near him.

Harry fell to his knees.

"Pup?" Sirius rushed over as soon as the magic stopped its destruction and the dome around him fell.

Concern filled the man's entire being but Harry was not in the right mind to notice. Dread and anger were filling him at a quick rate. He knew all too well exactly who and what made his scar react in such a manner.

"Get the goblins here," Harry said after regaining his breath from the unexpected assault in his head. "We need their help."

"But you –," Sirius started, not willing to leave Harry alone.

"I'm fine Sirius," Harry stated as calmly as he could. "That was not the first time this thing happened to me. I need the goblins here now and you are the only one who can invite them over."

Harry stood up. Seeing Sirius' hesitation he sighed in frustration. "NOW. Please."

"Well come with me."

"No," Harry said sharply. Sirius looked shocked at his refusal. "I have things to clear with this elf that I'd rather not put off any longer, considering how insane he's already gotten. I am not leaving Kreacher alone right now."

Sirius looked confused.

"Please Paddy. Trust me. Get Griphook and Wardmasters over. Tell him I think I found him a focus. He will understand." Harry pushed the man to the exit, waving a hand to change Sirius' features to a new disguise. "Now go."

He watched as Sirius reluctantly left, hurrying his pace to get back quicker. Once he felt Sirius' presence vanish completely from near him – the perks of being able to sense bonds – Harry whirled about to find the Black House Elf.

Kreacher was still where he had first appeared, rooted to the ground in shock. He supposed something happened to Kreacher when his magic touched whatever was twining around the elf.

Harry checked the link, to confirm his suspicions. Indeed, the black thing twining around the elf was faded. Still there but faded.

Harry let his mind run, thinking on the best way to approach the matter. He doubted the elf was purposely guarding the Horcrux if it had been fighting it at the same time. But the only way Kreacher could have been influenced by the vile thing was if he had kept it close to him all the time.

Harry frowned, wondering how to phrase the questions before his brain reminded him that Kreacher had to obey him no matter what since he was heir to the Black line.

"Kreacher," Harry called out, bringing the elf's attention to him. "Care to tell me where exactly you are keeping something that belongs to the Dark Lord?"

* * *

Harry rolled the frozen orb he was holding around his hand, staring at the golden locket trapped inside it. He was not sure if it amounted to anything but he had really detested the idea of touching the thing directly. Who knew what may happen.

And as his eyes glanced over to the sniffling elf at the corner, he could not regret his action. Trapping the thing had helped diminished the hold it seemed to have over Kreacher immensely. The elf's purple link with him still had a faint glimmer of black and the poor thing was still looking as haggard and dirty as ever but the crazed look in its eyes were almost gone completely.

He certainly had respect for the elf now. To have fought the influence of the horcrux simply due to his strong wish to finish his dead master's last wish for so many years spoke much about the elf's will and love for Regulus Black.

He stared at the being. Its sight really made him pity it. It was clear it had been through a lot, despite being alone for a long time. Watched his beloved master Regulus die, was forbidden to tell about the incident to its mistress, which in turn left it to watch his Mistress die in grief slowly over the years and he could do nothing but again watch.

For a being that lived on serving and taking care of the family it was bonded to, Harry was certain Kreacher found the experience torturing.

The presence of his godfather returning entered his subconscious, distracting him from his musings. Letting out his magic, he found the presence of Griphook and Jadeclaw, along with at least three more goblins he was not very familiar with.

_"We are in the kitchen, Griphook,"_ Harry informed his account manager. He returned his attention to the elf in front of him as soon Griphook acknowledged him with a reply telepathically.

"Kreacher," Harry waited for the elf to look at him. "You did you best, alright. It couldn't be helped that the means to destroy this thing was beyond your knowledge. I've asked Sirius to bring people over who can help us remove the vile thin within this locket, just like your Master Regulus wished, alright? Your Master's last wish _will_ be fulfilled. Don't worry."

He was surprised to find himself being hugged by the old thing.

"Young Master is so kind. Thank you. Kreacher thanks you a lot. Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

Harry patted the wailing elf's head gingerly, unsure as to how to comfort it. Physical assurance was still something he would admit he was a novice at.

"Er –"

Harry looked up to meet Sirius' confused gaze as a group of goblins flanked about him.

"I'm missing quite a bit of context, aren't I?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded.

* * *

Griphook whacked him over the head.

"Ow," Harry cried, rubbing the assaulted spot.

"Next time, fish, follow your godfather and come find us like a good kid," Griphook snarled. "You do not have the experience to deal with the Horcrux if it had chosen to attack, especially since there are no Basilisk fangs around to help you!"

"I was not leaving Kreacher alone for even one moment. Have you looked at the elf? He was dying slowly! I'm amazed he was not possessed after so many years."

"Elf magic is different. He would never have fallen into the horcrux's possession for he would never betray his master's commands, even if said master is dead."

"So what? It was still draining him. Maybe slowly but I'm sure over the years, no matter how long the years, one day Kreacher would have simply not been able to fight back. He has had no Masters that have initiated the bonding correctly with him for years. He is living off on pure will and the magic in the house which would not have lasted long. He was dying, Griphook!" Harry replied back agitated. "Slowly, very, very slowly but still dying. I was not about to leave that creature alone for one more second to be alone and to increase the Horcrux's influence on it," Harry stated firmly.

Griphook sighed exasperated. "Then bring the elf along, next time, fish!"

Harry blinked. "Huh. Why didn't I think of that?"

Griphook lost all sense of dignity and simply slapped his palm to his forehead.

Jadeclaw chose the moment to join the conversation with Barknas. "Well, Harrison was right that the elf was indeed in a fatal situation. Did anybody realize the elf was the one in control of the house's wards?"

Sirius, who had so far stayed quiet while Harry had been arguing with Griphook answered the question. "I suspected it. We came here to have control over the wards so that I could check the conditions for the place."

"Well it seems Kreacher has been subconsciously redirecting the Horcrux's influence onto the house so as to ensure it did not possess him completely, though I doubt the elf knew he was doing it. From what he has been willing to tell, he only recognizes evil magic from the locket but he doesn't know what it is entirely."

"You mean the house could have been under Voldemort's soul's control?" Harry asked aghast.

"Not entirely, no. He cannot control the important main wards considering he was not a Black. Family magic is too strong to be thwarted that way. But he was able to influence other things like the wards controlling lights and some portraits. What I'm saying is that his influence on Kreacher, which Kreacher pushed into the house, is what is resulting in this house being so grim and gloomy," Barknas explained.

Jadeclaw nodded. "It is a very complicated thing. Kreacher refused to let the horcrux possess him due to needing to complete his master's last wish but he kept throwing his magic in at the locket to try and destroy it. The horcrux absorbed his magic and could use it a means to latch onto Kreacher who did not know the consequences of his actions but Kreacher's magic refused to let the soul piece possess its owner as it saw that as an act of betrayal against Kreacher's master. House Elf's are very devoted to serving and honoring their family and their masters, you see. But the soul piece did latch onto Kreacher. So it could still somewhat influence it. I suspect once it couldn't possess Kreacher, it went on to influence Kreacher with the Dark Lord's pureblood supremacy notions, using the redirection Kreacher gave it to latch onto portraits and the like, especially the portrait of your dead mother, Lord Black."

Sirius drew in a gasp. "You mean…"

"I'm sure she believed in the pureblood supremacy and all that, Lord Black but I doubt your mother was a person who acted like a screaming banshee, loudly proclaiming her thoughts and opinions. Though I suppose the screaming was simply to distract and deter people who come about the house so that their chances of finding the horcrux was low. And influencing the portrait of your dead mother would have certainly helped in influencing Kreacher who the soul piece wanted control of. We have been told by the elf that the portrait only screams when there are people in the house other than the elf."

"We've checked on all the affected things within the house," Barknas supplied. "Your mother's portrait especially is no longer doing any screaming and seems very much mortified that something has been controlling her in her own house. Since we've removed the influence from Kreacher, everything here seems to be returning to normal. The Horcrux is no longer controlling anyone or anything. You are going to have to work to refurbish this entire house, however."

Harry squeezed his Sirius' hand, sensing refurbishment was the farthest thing in his godfather's mind. "Go talk to her, Sirius."

Sirius shook his head. "She may not be a screaming banshee anymore but I doubt she would like me anyway. She's never liked me since I made it into Gryffindor and she's always followed the Dark Lord."

"So she's liked you once before you went off to Hogwarts," Harry pointed out.

Sirius shrugged.

Harry sighed. "Look, your different beliefs tore you two apart but I think you owe it to the woman who is your mother to inform her how and why your little brother died. Her second son. She may be a portrait that is only a shadow of the real person but she deserves to know. And for all you know, she may have thought about you over the years after her husband died and Regulus vanished. The last living family she had."

Harry turned to the house elf that was in a corner of the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and sitting on a stool.

"Kreacher." The elf looked up. "Follow your Master Sirius and talk to your Mistress' painting. You are going to tell her about how and why Master Regulus died, along with Sirius."

Harry looked at his godfather. "Go on Sirius. I'll look after all the other matters. Try to connect with your mother. Your mother need not change her beliefs overnight but I think it's quite wrong to let her continue to have blind belief in a man whom she doesn't realize killed one of her sons."

Sirius silently left the room with Kreacher.

Harry focused back on the goblins who were waiting politely for him.

"I want to have Kreacher checked and healed afterwards. And I'm not leaving him here even with the Horcrux gone."

Griphook nodded. "We can arrange for Jadeclaw to check over him more thoroughly back at Gringotts. Right now, we need to have the wards in full and correct control of the Head of House so as to remove the Horcrux's lingering influence if there are any. Once the Head regains control, the wards would reset themselves to their original state and power."

Harry nodded. "That can be done once Sirius comes back with Kreacher. In the meantime, may I employ some of your brilliant curse breakers to help us de-curse this entire house? I don't want anything thrown out but I want anything harmful to become harmless. The throwing out, I will do with Sirius and Kreacher so that nothing of importance is accidentally discarded."

The goblins nodded.

"I will arrange it," Barknas promised.

"Talk the fees over with Griphook then," Harry said tiredly. "I'm going to take a break until we go back to the bank before I even ask you guys about the horcrux."

Harry slumped down onto the kitchen counter, mind running a mile a minute as he pondered on many things – a primary one which included writing an urgent letter to a certain redhead.

Who knew visiting an old, disintegrating house would bring about so much trouble and worry?

* * *

Thankfully, the next few days were certainly better.

The talk with the painting of Walburga Black had done both Sirius and Kreacher good. Teaming up to make the portrait understand why the Dark Lord was not worthy of her support and belief by what he subjected the heir of the Black line to do had made them both realize that the other was not entirely bad. And their love for one Regulus Black – because despite what Sirius complained about his brother, he had always loved his little brother Reggie – paved a way for both elf and wizard to find truce.

Sirius mother, meanwhile, came to her senses and had grudgingly apologized for her rude behavior to all of them afterwards – even the goblins. And she had immediately dropped any allegiance and support she had had with the Dark Lord once she heard just how her beloved Regulus died from Sirius. (Kreacher, of course had to confirm the tale to make her believe.)

Kreacher recovered rather quickly once the horcrux's influence was completely removed from him and both Sirius and Harry had bonded with him to feed him magic. Once he was healthier and had fully comprehended his Master Regulus' last wish would be completed, Kreacher had had quite the behavior change. He had bounded over to Harry and Sirius and promised to never fail them both and promptly started doing housework.

Of course, Harry had to draw some lines when the image of Dobby flashed across his head at Kreacher's enthusiasm. He had to take a leaf out of Sirius' book and lay ground rules with the elf on how things ran in the cottage.

Sirius had been quite amused while Kreacher had simply been aghast when he learnt that he was not allowed to cook any meals unless it was his turn to do the duty that week and that he would be treated as an equal in the family – which to the poor elf's horror included dining together with his Masters at the table and other such perplexing notions. Harry had had to let the elf have an off day simply to let the poor thing's mind comprehend the rules. And after his initially shock and confusion had faded, Kreacher had simply accepted the changes Harry and Sirius imposed on him and adapted with little resistance. Harry personally though the elf enjoyed receiving care and attention in more than just words and praises.

But of course, the good times came to an abrupt halt quite quickly for Harry.

"What do you mean, it's not acting as a focus?"

Harry frowned at the crystal orb in front of him. The only thing that he liked about it was a faint glow of blue that seemed to swirl around its inner walls in an orb-like shape, acting almost as if it were another crystal orb within the actual orb. The rest of the fog-like darkness inside the center of the orb, which he knew was the horcrux that had been transferred from the locket, was not something that brought him joy to see.

"It seems Lord Voldemort was even more paranoid than we assumed. Not only did he split his soul to defy death, but he also took precautions to ensure nobody could use one of his horcrux to search for any of his other horcruxes," Barknas, who had presented the crystal orb containing the horcrux explained.

Harry scowled, not liking the answer. "Can it not mean that there are simply no more horcruxes?"

Griphook, who had been watching the exchange shook his head. "No, fish. If there were no others, the protections he has placed on this one to prevent us from using it as a focus would fall naturally."

Harry's scowl deepened. "Is there no way to break that particular set of protections?"

Griphook exchanged a glance with Barknas. "Yes. It will take time, of course. A few months at the very least if we are lucky considering the Dark Lord's extensive protections."

Harry tore his eyes away from the swirling blue magic within the orb to give Griphook and Barknas a puzzled look. "Oh. Then why did you call me over, Griphook? If you already have a solution to the problem?"

The two goblins exchanged looks again.

"Your magic is doing it again, Harrison. Being its usual unpredictable self," Griphook supplied.

"What?" Harry asked, confusion deepening.

"You see that blue colored magic surrounding the horcrux?"

Harry nodded.

"That's not anything from the Horcrux or our magic, Lord Potter," Barknas started. "It is your magic from when you froze the locket that contained the horcrux. It transferred over when we removed the horcrux from the locket."

"And currently, it shows providing additional protection to the horcrux by enhancing its protections by giving it magical support," Griphook finished.

Harry stared at the goblins before in him in horror, even as a vague sense of déjà vu washed over him at the conversation.

"WHAT?!"

* * *

**A/N: Well look who's back after a period of no chapters... ME!**

**Although to be honest, this long gaps will start to be a bit more commonplace.**

***wince***

**Sorry guys but school has started and its quite difficult to juggle this with the commitments. So the new chapters will come after quite long intervals. I apologize in advance. As a fellow fanfic reader I understand the frustration when a story is not updated for long periods but now that I'm a writer too well I have new respect for authors who update and finish stories quickly and empathy for the slower ones like me. It's difficult man. (And I'm only a beginner who is writing one story. There are authors with quite a number of stories, Merlin!)**

**I'll try my very best to post as regularly but I'm warning you guys ti be prepared in advance for when the lack of activity stretches into weeks. Sincerely sorry when that happens - and I'm being honest, it is a when not an if situation. Hope you guys understand though :) cuz I can't flunk school unless I want my mom to disown me, which would be terrible consider she would take my laptop away from me and then boom - no more writing fanfic.**

**But moving on from that agonizing bit of truth, TYSM to all of you for answering my question! So I'm certain now that Draco and Harry are like second/third cousins, which makes it easier to write their relationship in the story. Else I would have been beating about the bush saying 'distantly related' or sth equally vague when writing their interactions in the future with other characters.**

**And I'm aware Dorea Potter is not necessarily Harry's paternal grandmother in canon but well...this is fanfic and I like the idea of it and its a well established idea in fandom so, Dorea Potter it will be for this Harry's grand-mama.**

**As for this latest chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed it! **

**I'll be happy to know what yall think of Harry's weird acting magic and what yall think of my take on Kreacher's insanity...I mean, I always wondered how Kreacher would have tried to destroy the locket. He would not have only tried to physically harm it, he would have tried magic too. And I never understood why a Pureblood's portrait would scream and rant in such an undignified manner...**

**Anyways, I gotta go. Talk to yall the next time I post. Leave any reviews if you feel like it! **

**Wish you all good health and happiness! **٩(◕‿◕｡)۶


	15. Insecurities and Rituals

**A/N: Oh look who is back after so long. **

**(Laughs nervously)**

**Sorry for the wait you guys. But thanks for still reading the story :)**

**Also, (it pains me to disappoint many of yall like this but) I'M REALLY SORRY but H20 characters are just not going to be in this story. Maybe I'll write another story with a much more traditional crossover of characters but this story here is more taking the moonpool magic and mermaid concepts and all that rather than the characters from H20; just add water. A thousand apologies. I know that it must be frustrating when some of yall try this story out with the expectation of seeing wizards and mermaids mix...**

**( Shrugs uneasily )**

**I'm sorry :(**

**Well, I hope you like this chapter though... **

**Enjoy and PLEASE STAY SAFE too! If yall are in places that are getting affected by the virus (which place isn't at this point honestly) please take extra care of your personal hygiene and be socially responsible! Let's all survive through this!**

**Really though. Stay safe everyone!**

* * *

Griphook of Gringotts was not a goblin who was distracted easily. And hardly ever did he worry or care over the emotions and well-being of a human, especially a human wizard.

Still, Griphook would admit he would be lying when he said he did not worry for the dark-haired wizard before him. The fact that he knew said wizard for less than a few weeks made the truth even more astonishing.

Griphook sighed. This was all the fish's fault. Before that emerald-eyed teen had entered his life, Griphook had been happy spending his life fooling wizards and enjoying his front view tickets to how they ruined themselves through their own actions alone. But the young teen had to waltz in – more like stumble in, if he were to be truthful – into his life and do another impossible feat in his young life. Gain the friendship and respect of the Goblin Nation, inclusive of their women.

Yes, this was all the idiot fish's fault. If Griphook had not so deeply cared for the young teen within the summer, he would not have had reason to be worrying over this grown wizard in front of him either.

Honestly, it was not even because he cared for the man. But rather because he knew that young Harrison cared for the man that was causing him to be uncharacteristically patient with the escaped prisoner of Azkaban.

"Would you quit with the fidgeting, Black. You are running on my nerves."

Ah well, there was only so long he could be patient for when it came to wizards. And frankly, Griphook thought three hours was a record in itself. If it had been anyone else (not of significance to the fish), he would have thrown them out his office within ten minutes.

"He should not have gone alone."

Griphook rolled his eyes, though inwardly he agreed with the somewhat sane man. (He doubted the man had fully recovered from his trauma after spending twelve years with Dementors.)

"Harrison will be fine. He knows how to take care of himself."

He watched, with a little regret, as the man before him flinched. In hindsight, he should have thought before speaking the truth to the still healing man. He knew Sirius Black, for all his impulse and wrong actions in the wake of extreme grief, had never meant to abandon his godson. The man had simply chosen to do the wrong thing while under overwhelming emotion and the circumstances – what with the traitor and the incompetent Ministry – had then sealed his misfortune further by incarcerating the man illegally.

But Griphook sugar coating reality would not do the man any good. No matter how much the man regretted over the unfortunate past – where most blame fell on the wizarding world's incompetence rather than Black himself – the reality remained that Harrison was a child who had grown up unloved and forced from a young age to care for himself. And such a child knew how to take care of himself. Especially now that he was more equipped to navigate the wizarding world with the goblins' guidance.

A rather awkward silence filled the Potter accountant's office.

Griphook, falling back on his goblin habits and steadfastly ignoring his own guilt at causing the last Black discomfort, returned absently to the paperwork he had been staring at for the past four hours.

Where in the world was the fish?

Surely retrieving a prophecy would not take so long.

(Unfortunately for both goblin and godfather, the teen in question who was the subject of their thoughts would not yet return till nine in the morning.)

Just as both goblin and wizard were at the brink of abandoning patience and preparing to barge into a certain Ministry for Magic without care for the chaos such an action would bring, the door to Griphook's office opened and the subject of their concern walked in.

Looking alarmingly pale and emotionless.

"Harry?"

Griphook noted how the young wizard flinched at the soft calling as his glazed eyes focused upon the occupants in the room.

Harrison gave a weak smile.

"One week."

Both goblin and wizard blinked, unsure of what their young charge was saying.

"Just give me one week," Harry Potter murmured distractedly. "After that, I'll come and tell you what I learnt."

And with that the raven-haired child disappeared in a flash of green.

Silence ensued for the briefest moment before the Black Lord started scrambling after his godson.

"You are wasting your time and effort."

The nonchalant words had their intended effect. The Azkaban escapee paused just as he was about to throw the Floo powder into the fireplace. Griphook would have felt insulted at the affronted look the man threw his way had he cared for wizard's opinions.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, you are wasting your time and effort, wizard. Surely you heard me the first time."

"Did you or did you not see Harry just now? Looking like he had seen death itself?"

A pang of worry shot through Griphook again at the reminder of Harrison's distressed appearance. But Griphook was practical. He knew that chasing after Harrison now would be a futile action.

"And were you not listening when he asked you to give him a week to come to terms with whatever he learnt from the Department of Mysteries?" Griphook countered.

"Am I supposed to just leave my godson alone while he is so upset?"

Griphook glanced up from the paperwork he was failing to concentrate upon, discarding his nonchalance attitude to look the Black Lord in the eye.

"Are you capable of scouring the seven seas, Sirius Black?"

"What are you tal–," Realisation flooded the man, "Oh." Black slumped slightly, his hand dropping to his side, fingers going lax, enabling the green powder in his palm to escape. Normally Griphook would have taken offence to the mess the wizard was causing on his pristine office but he could understand what the man must be feeling. So Griphook supposed he would let it slide for once.

"He will most likely be back by sunset today or sunrise tomorrow wizard. Harrison cannot stay hidden in the ocean forever after all. I am certain he would be back to pace around his room instead of floating about the ocean. But," Griphook sent a sharp glance towards the man, "Don't you dare take that as invitation to pester him for information."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest. Griphook cut the argument short.

"He requested a week, wizard. Respect it. We can interfere if things continue looking terrible but you will not break the boy's faith in that you would respect his requests and decisions."

Griphook watched in satisfaction as the man deflated at hearing the goblin's words.

Well at least the man could listen to the advice of wiser beings, Griphook mused as he returned to his paperwork. And if he were smart, the man would remember the advice and not bother Harrison before the week was up.

Really, Griphook did not have time to waste on incapacitating the man if he did. He had too much paperwork as it was without needing to worry over the issue on where to hide a newly reinstated Head of House Black.

* * *

Harry Potter drew patterns onto the sand absently, watching without seeing as the current slowly washed everything away even as his fingers continued their doodling.

_Why?_

The thought kept running in circles around his head. He had been pondering it for hours now, yet still could not fathom any answers.

It had been only a day since the revelation of his magic actively protecting Voldemort's soul again. But Harry was already at his wits end. He certainly had not commanded his magic to protect the evil monster's split soul, yet that was exactly what his magic was doing. He did not understand it one bit.

He turned slowly, lying on his back on the seabed to glance up at the dark waters around him. The prophecy he had retrieved from the Department of Mysteries, shortly after the locket incident, came back to the front of his memory again for the _nth_ time.

_…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_

_..Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…_

_…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_

_…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…_

_…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

Harry scowled in frustration, absently letting go of the control he had on his body to allow the water to lift him upwards to the surface with no resistance. He took in a deep breath as his head broke out of the water.

"I don't understand your motives, you know," he told the growing moon that was almost nearing its completion. "And I'll admit I do not like being kept in the dark one bit."

He stared at the shining almost-a-full-circle with a half-hearted glare.

"Have you ever heard of communication?" He asked exasperatedly. "It's where you tell me what is going through your brain and explain how that is making you do what you do so that I can understand that there is a good reason for all this things that are happening to me and make a decision on what to do to either help you _or save myself_." He stared at the shining silver with narrowed eyes, almost hoping for a reaction of some sort.

Unfortunately for Harry the moon seemed to not be in the mood to respond. The most response he had gotten was a slight pulsing of the magic around him and a small caress of magic-filled breeze against his hair. And that reaction almost felt as if the magic around him was laughing at his rant rather than giving a proper response, so Harry intensified his glare, even as he muttered under his breath about silly moons and unresponsive magics.

"I'm serious Moon? Magic? Whatever you are. You don't make sense! Why did you save me and bless me with all these powers and instruct me to learn and master them? Why are you saving him too? He split his soul for Merlin's sake! He's beyond the realms of sanity and logic! He is a monster! Why are you saving him?" Harry glanced again at the unresponsive moon.

"Why are you saving the both of us if our coexistence only means one is going to have to kill the other?" Harry whispered in confusion even as he sank back to the bottom of his moon pool, no longer able to face the silent moon.

"I trust you a lot magic," Harry thought silently, as he flicked his tail lightly, twisting his form to head towards the exit of the underwater grotto. "Even now I still trust you to never harm me or to support evil. I've believed in you so long to be just and fair unlike humans. But I cannot help but worry at your actions simply because I do not understand them. Please," he sent a backwards glance to the moon pool he exited, "If you hear me, give me some signs, something, anything to help me understand. I will not be able to stand betrayals from you too."

The last thing he felt as he left was another caress against his hair – this time more comforting than anything else – as he swam back in the direction of his home. But the comfort of the caress did nothing to ease the doubts and worry building around his heart.

_Why?_

The question was left unanswered and Harry felt unease settle in his chest.

* * *

Griphook stared at the frustrated Black Lord before him. He would have thrown the man out for his incessant rants and pacing by now. Except the worry shining in the man's eyes made him hesitate.

Not to mention the fear of what Jadeclaw would do to him if he heard Griphook had anything to do with his patient becoming worse in health. Said patient may be a wizard but goblin Healers were rather strict in their professionalism and ethics compared to goblin bankers when it came to their clients.

"Could you just cut to crux of the matter, Black?"

"We need an intervention for Harry."

Griphook shot the man a glare.

"I made the matter clear to you did I not? He asked for a – "

"He is scared senseless of his own magic Griphook," Sirius cut the goblin with an uncharacteristically sombre look. "And I am scared if we let him go on as he is, he is going to collapse."

Griphook stared at the wizard in front of him blankly.

Sirius let out a frustrating sigh.

"Come one Griphook, you've noticed how Harry is nowadays. He may still be talking and joking here and then but he is almost acting like a muggle. And I haven't seen him step out to swim in three days. Three days! He could barely not go swimming for a day and now he's avoiding the ocean like the plague!"

The wizard stared at the goblin with pleading eyes. "I am not good at helping him. I don't know him like you goblins do." Griphook could see how much it pained the man to admit that truth. "He needs help and you know him the best. Please, we don't have to force him to reveal anything about the goddamn prophecy but we've got to make him stop this fear of his own magic!"

Griphook stayed silent. The wizard's rather passionate rant was not helping him in his attempt to subdue the worry that had already manifested in his mind. Griphook knew exactly what the Black Lord was talking about but he had really tried to wait out for the end of the requested week of isolation Harrison had pleaded for. He knew how much it meant for the child for his trusted friends to respect his wishes and decisions.

But perhaps, perhaps right now, being left to brood alone may not be what Harrison needed, despite what he thought.

Griphook racked his brain for a possible explanation. Whatever brought on this sudden change in Harrison's behaviour?

He doubted it was the horcruxes. The boy had already known about them. And it did not make sense for whatever he learnt about the prophecy to have upset him much. They already knew the crux of the matter was most likely that Harrison must have been prophesied to be the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord for good. That really should not scare the child either. He had faced the Dark Lord and successfully come out on top – even if was through sheer luck – many times and the matter had not really brought the boy any distress before.

So, what was bothering Harrison?

The storm of thoughts whirling about the goblins brain ceased as a suspicion took root in his head.

_Your magic is acting unusual…_

_…That is not our magic on the Horcrux Lord Potter_

_…your magic is helping his horcrux_

_…It is also protecting the soul piece from harm…_

_It's providing additional protection to the Horcrux…._

The more he thought about it, the more Griphook seemed sure of the idea.

Sometimes, the goblin forgot that the child never grew up in the world of magic, that the child still was ignorant of the common truths about magic that most children who grew up in the wizarding world knew.

It seemed Harrison was not aware that magic would never sacrifice its own through her actions.

_…He is scared senseless of his own magic Griphook…_

Yes. It was clear. Harrison may not be scared of the Dark Lord's splintered soul or facing the man in a fight to death. But the child must feel lost now that the situation seems to look as if his own magic was protecting the very person who had always been a threat to his own survival. The boy did not understand what was going on with his magic and thus was scared.

Scared that his magic was choosing Voldemort over himself. That it was betraying him for the Dark Lord.

Really, perhaps letting the child go seek a prophecy that pitted him and Voldemort against each other was not the wisest decision Griphook had done, considering circumstance had it that the child had left for the DOM almost immediately after he had learnt the unsettling news that his magic was acting unusual again.

The consecutive bad news may have made the situation look even worse for the child that it must have been.

Griphook cursed internally. This was undoubtedly a blunder on his part. It was almost like the full moon incident all over again. An easily avoidable circumstance but the goblin had been careless.

"Griphook?"

The human voice startled the goblin out of his thoughts. He had forgotten the Black Lord was still there.

"You know what is happening, don't you?"

Griphook stood from his seat. "I believe I have a good guess, mutt. Let's meet Harrison. You are correct in that this matter needs an intervention no matter what Harrison requested. It seems the fish is in a panic mode."

* * *

Harry Potter resolutely ignored the tea cup that was nuzzling against his bound arm, trying to coax him into drinking tea. Tea was the farthest thing in his mind, as of then. It was not as if he could drink the bloody thing even if he wanted to. What he wanted to do was instead make his _oh so caring_ godfather's life miserable.

Very, very miserable.

His walking wardrobe passed by below him merrily, almost with a skip in its step. It seemed the vain thing had had a stroke of luck. The rowdy umbrella trio that often took pleasure in chasing it about were occupied with something far more interesting. Harry himself would have found it amusing at how his furniture were currently behaving had _he_ not been the very thing that his umbrella trio found _far more interesting_.

He scowled.

This was all Sirius' fault.

"Well are you simply going to sit there and glare or drink some tea? It's pretty good tea, you know?"

Harry's glare intensified. The man had much gall, saying that, after he had very cowardly stunned him and bound him from the back.

"So, you are going to sit and glare. Oh well, your loss," Sirius took a sip from his own tea, giving a satisfied sigh as the sweet drink passed his lips.

"Well, pup. Firstly, I apologise for these drastic measures that we had to take but it is our," Sirius gestured between himself and his goblin companion, "belief that you need an intervention. Right Griphook?"

The goblin in question did not reply. Harry noted with some vengeful glee that their green companion was looking more greener than usual. Inwardly, he thanked his past self for having installed the dine-from-your-ceiling furniture set from Lyria. Sure, the design was whacky and he had had needed a few days to adjust to the change in perspective before being able to eat on it but moments like these where he could entertain himself in others discomfort vanished any regrets or any doubts he had about his decisions.

"Serves him right," Harry thought with a mental sniff. "He approved this unprovoked attack on me. In my own home, no less!"

"Griphook?" Sirius turned to look at his companion when the silence stretched too thin. Noticing the queasy look on the goblin's face, he immediately realised their problem.

"Um, so maybe we should relocate ourselves?"

Harry would have smirked if he could as he watched his goblin friend – currently enemy due to circumstances – nod gratefully. As if he would make it that easy for those two after what they have done. He watched gleefully as both Sirius and Griphook tried to rise from their ceiling chairs, just to realise that they were stuck.

By their butts.

To the chairs.

Ah the perks of being the owner of whacky furniture. He made a note in his mind to thank Lyria in the future for her brilliant charms and runes. They did provide him with such entertainment at the expense of Sirius and Griphook's dignity.

"Pup, what did you do?"

Harry stared at the man with an unimpressed look. It was quite obvious that he had purposefully stuck them to their chairs. After all, Sirius was well aware who controlled the furniture in this house. And for the man to ask him another question again while he had yet to remove the_ Petrificus Totalus_ from Harry was simply rude.

He glared at his godfather again.

Sirius seemed to finally realise what he had forgotten.

"Oh, right! The body-bind!" The man waved his wand towards Harry with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that."

Harry scowled, loosening his arm and shoulder muscles that had previously been staying too rigid.

"What the heck do you two think you are doing?"

"I believe the mutt made it clear. We are having an intervention."

Harry glowered at Griphook – whom he noticed bitterly was unfortunately regaining the normal green to his skin instead of the sick shade.

"And why may I ask, do I need an intervention?"

"Many reasons. The most prominent one being you having silly frights over silly matters, fish."

Harry bristled. "I am not feeling frightened."

"Oh really," Griphook asked in a sweet tone. "Then why are you avoiding your own magic?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, Griphook. I still use my magic plenty."

The goblin's reply to that denial was to simply pick up the harmless glass of water on the table between them and fling its content across towards the unsuspecting young wizard.

Harry's magic rose in response to help him. A white dome formed around the young wizard in an attempt to protect the wizard within. Unfortunately for him, the _Protego _was used to defend against harmful spells and objects. Certainly not water – which Harry was painfully reminded an ally for him through his magic's happy tingling at its mere presence. Therefore, Harry watched in dismay as the water soared past his barrier as if it was not there and drenched his chest as it fell on him. The effect was instant.

One second, he had legs. The next, he had a tail.

Harry closed his eyes. He was not sure if it was to prevent himself from seeing Griphook's smug smirk from across him or to try and deny the contentment that seemed to trill throughout his entire body at having touched water for the first time in three days.

"What do you want Griphook?"

"For you to stop being an idiot," came the bland reply.

Harry opened his eyes to stare at his goblin friend unimpressed.

"You wanted a week to work things out, fish. But you cannot do that if you simply don't understand what you are dealing with."

"I know perfectly what the prophecy conveyed."

"He's not talking about the prophecy, pup."

Harry startled at Sirius' unexpected admission. He had almost forgotten the man was there what with how Sirius seemed to have left Griphook to do the talking so far.

"What?"

"We are not here to ask you to tell us what the prophecy is. We already know the gist of what it entails, though wording is important yes. But what we are here to talk about is your sudden fear at facing your own magic."

Harry averted his eyes, shifting his tail uneasily.

He knew what they were talking about. And he knew deep down that it was most likely a silly fear. But he could not help it. Magic had always been there for him, whether he had been aware of it or not. So, Harry naturally trusted his magic. He had instinctively and firmly believed subconsciously that his magic would always be on his side.

But these new situations with the horcrux and the prophecy were starting to question his long-held belief.

Because all this time, facing Voldemort and surviving through the skin of his teeth, Harry had his magic fighting alongside him.

But now. Now he was not sure anymore.

He never wanted to protect Voldemort's horcruxes. Honestly, the man split his very soul. More than once. Willingly, Harry would bet. That was not okay in Harry's books. He may not know much about soul magic but Harry knew that things like the soul were sacred matters. You do not mess around with your own or others for any reason.

Yet, here was Harry's own magic protecting the vile things without his input. He could have understood the situation when it was about the horcrux in his head, really. At least then he could chalk up the weirdness to magic believing compromising and protecting the darn thing was the best way to get it to not harm Harry in return. But the matter with the locket scared him. He froze the thing to stop its influence. But his magic instead rose to surround the thing with _an additional layer of protection_ for the goddess' sake.

He simply did not understand _why_.

"Pup, look at us."

Harry turned back his gaze towards his two companions.

"Magic is many things. Sentient, mysterious, crazy even –" Sirius started.

"But she is never a betrayer to her own," Griphook finished.

Both goblin and wizard stared at the child before them.

"You have to understand Harrison, that the magic within is each being is gifted to be an integral part of each being's soul. And such magic, unlike magic from the environment or other factors, does not lash out or harm its own owner. No matter the circumstance." Harry's surprise was obvious for all to see at the revelation. "The only exception to this state of nature is when one offends Lady Magic herself and gets cursed by her. And that, I can assure you, has not happened to you. We would know if you were cursed with a terrible fate. The signs would be hard to miss."

Griphook set down the glass he had had been holding onto all this while.

"Yes, we do not know what your magic is trying to achieve by protecting the Dark Lord's soul pieces, Harrison. But whatever the reason may be, it is not because your magic has chosen that man over you or because he is worth saving more compared to you."

"It's _your_ magic pup. You are as much necessary for its survival as it is for you. Why would it ever betray you then?"

"We are not asking you to simply accept the situation and not investigate or anything, fish. In fact, if you don't try and find reasons, I believe Fradgrot would be immensely displeased by your lack of thirst for knowledge," Griphook said, expertly ignoring Sirius' snort at the mention of Fradgrot's displeasure. "But don't unnecessarily fear that your magic is starting to abandon you in favour of another. That's, to be honest, stupid."

"You've said it before pup, your magic has always been there for you. So trust it again to be doing the best for you. And if you don't understand it, well," Sirius shared a glance with Griphook, "Like what Griphook said. Figure out its motivations. That's the only solution to your predicament. Not sitting around developing panic attacks."

Harry stared at the two people sitting across him blankly, letting their words and what said words meant wash over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry felt some unknown worry that he had been harboring fade. It had not vanished completely but it had certainly diminished in intensity and suddenly embarrassment decided to enter the place doubt and insecurity once held domain.

With what Griphook and Sirius had explained, he realized he really had been acting stupidly. He knew deep down that the magic in his core would always defer to him first and foremost. Like what his companions spelt out for him, it was _his_ magic.

But –

But he could not help doubting whether the one good thing that had so far remained a constant in his life would also end up leaving him like most other things did. It was a pathetic fear, but fears had that way of being silly yet terrifying.

"Urrgghhh I'm an idiot, aren't I?" he groaned, covering his face in his hands.

The goblin and wizard sitting across him did not bother to respond to the question that was rhetoric. But both smiled as they finally sensed the tense atmosphere that surrounded the teen before them subside significantly for the first time in three days. The duo knew they were unlikely to have eased all of the child's unease but they hoped they helped him calm down enough to function better.

Silence ensured, in which the emerald eyed teen before them contemplated his thoughts internally. Sirius eventually broke it, curiosity overwhelming him.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm going to take your advice. I will stop doubting my own magic but –," Harry paused.

Sirius and Griphook exchanged a look.

"But?"

"But before I do that, I'm going to cease all doubts I have in my mind for the time."

Griphook frowned.

"What exactly do you mean, fish?"

Emerald eyes stared up to face its companions.

"I'm going to do a ritual."

* * *

The company of three sat in silence.

"Well, it's rather risky. But if it helps ease your worries –"

"Woah, woah wait a minute, Griphook. It's risky? No one said anything about risky when you were explaining the ritual!"

Harry sighed at his godfather's alarmed expression.

"Godfather. I have to fast for an entire week as per the requirement of the ritual to cleanse my body of external influence. But it is also likely to leave me weakened. That is naturally going to push my magic to its extreme survival mode, considering I'm a mortal and not like vampires or anything. And while I'm in that state, I'm going to have to do the ritual to seek magic's blessing. Why did that not sound risky to you when I explained it?"

Sirius blinked.

"I had not thought of those factors. Pup you shouldn't –"

"I will be doing it, Siri. It's the most fail-safe way for me to not stop my doubts about my magic."

"Pup it's your magic. How many times do we have to tell you that for you to understand?"

"Then why is acting wonky?"

"What?"

Harry turned to Griphook.

"You know what I'm talking about. You answer me Griphook. Why is it acting differently nowadays?"

"Harrison, we've already told you our theories."

"And that's exactly why I'm worried. Their theories. I know logically my own magic will be with me. Will always choose me. But my trust is being shaken when it does something I consider exactly the opposite of 'looking after my wellbeing'."

"What's going on?" Sirius looked between them, confused.

Harry sighed.

"Siri, something has been happening with my magic. That's all I'm telling you now until you're completely recovered."

Sirius deflated at that.

"Look. I'm confident I can get through the ritual, despite it's difficulty. Even if it cannot provide me with concrete answers, the ritual can reassure me in a way that logic cannot right now. I need to do it. Please?"

Harry looked between his godfather and goblin friend imploringly.

"Please?"

Griphook and Sirius exchanged glances. A tense silence later, the two nodded reluctantly.

"Alright. But any sigh of it endangering your life and we'll intervene."

Harry nodded, accepting the condition.

"Thanks a lot, guys. I needed this intervention today."

The duo before Harry smiled. However, the elation that Sirius and Griphook (though the goblin would deny his happiness at having helped the fish) felt at the admission evaporated as Harry dropped his hands to fix them both with a sudden glare. "But I'm not forgetting how you two practically attacked me from behind in my own home!"

Sirius would never say that his little godson scared him but this was one instance where he supposed the matter was an exception. (Griphook never got scared by Harry no matter the situation so we shall not talk about his reaction.)

"So, as retribution to that, what do you two think about bonding upside down a while longer, while at the mercy of a snow belching umbrella?" Harry asked sweetly as he swiftly steam dried himself and left his companions stuck to the ceiling as his umbrella trio happily took over his seat.

Griphook and Sirius heard the little wizard's laughter in their minds for the whole hour of torture they endured at his whacky furniture's non-existent hands.

* * *

A shy ray of red spread across the dark sky, lightening it up as the Sun began his climb up the sky. Harry watched with a soft smile as the beauty of the sunrise once again filled him with fascination and awe. He had seen it so many times. Yet, the different patterns that the Sun painted across the horizon was something that never ceased to bring joy to his heart.

And today, _today_ was different. Or it will be, if Harry had any say.

His smile brightened as he felt the magic in the air stir, as though waking up from a long dream. The scent of the ocean intensified and the very air shimmered as if it were excited. The primary runes Harry had prepared shimmered to life, awakening to hum softly as sunlight touched them.

Harry felt the uncomfortable numbness in his stomach vanish, like all the other indications in his body that he had been depriving it of food for the past week. A sense of rejuvenation washed over him instead, filling him with energy as his mind grew excited over the fact that he was near to his goal. So very near.

Emerald eyes gleamed with determination.

Today was the day he would get answers.

* * *

Sirius knew Harry was probably well aware of what he was doing. Yet, the man could not stop from his shameless spying on his godson's activities.

It was the pup's first ever ritual after all. And he was doing it alone. Something Sirius was still not happy about but the goblin healers were strict in their instructions. He was fit to continue doing magic as an average witch and wizard but attempting High Magic before his body regained its required fitness and health was unacceptable. The only exception to the rule had been his Animagus form, which came easily to him no matter his bodies' health since he had been living as a dog for most of the twelve years in his unlawful imprisonment.

He watched as his pup started the ritual preparations. The anxiety he had so far kept at bay reared its ugly head.

"Do you think he would be alright?" He turned to his green skinned companion. The goblin did know the boy better due to circumstances.

Said goblin in question, who had abandoned his own dignity to accompany the shameless Animagus to spy on the raven-haired child, shrugged.

"He knows the steps by heart. Besides, he does not have unnecessary worries plaguing his mind anymore. He should do fine," the goblin grunted.

The black-haired Animagus turned back to face the sea, the goblin's words having reassured him slightly. He remembered how his pup had been the past few days. He had never seen Harry that unsettled or angry ever in the past weeks that he had lived with the boy. If the boy had been frustrated by his magic protecting Voldemort's horcrux, then he had been downright livid at whatever he had uncovered about the prophecy after his visit to the Department of Mysteries. The emerald-eyed teen had not revealed the contents of the prophecy at all, simply asking for at least a week for himself to come to terms with it on his own, before he shared it with anybody else. Even after the intervention, Harry had refused to reveal the prophecy to them and neither the goblins nor Sirius had pushed him. They were simply glad that Harry at least was thinking with a clear head. And his requested week was almost up. Sirius supposed all of them could wait a little longer for Harry to come to them himself with the prophecy and what he thought of it.

His pup had not denied them the knowledge, after all. Nor had the teen closed up after learning whatever upsetting news he had received from the prophecy, even when he had been insecure about his magic. Those facts alone had been enough for them to give the distraught teen his much-needed (and politely requested) time and space.

Oh, but how agonizing the first few days of the deal were. The only good thing perhaps was Sirius' finally realising how sincere the goblins' care for the teen was despite his pup's wizardry heritage. He had noticed how Griphook and a few other goblins had gone about watching the thirteen-year-old boy with concern as his eye bags grew along with his sleepless nights. Their subtle acts of opening doors for the distracted teen, not bothering him with paperwork – something Griphook had done in abundance before the prophecy incident – and handing him pepper up potions with no questions asked had been an eye opener to the friendship his godson had with the goblins.

But all of them, Sirius included, had noticed how poorly Harry had been coping. And a clear indicator of the fact had come with the boy's hesitancy to use his own magic, especially his water magic. Sirius had noticed it with how Harry had almost completely avoided his ocean swims and Griphook had noticed how the boy rarely played around with anything liquid in his office – something the boy did even if he was bored of the act, just to rile up the surly goblin.

It had seemed as though the boy had become uncertain about his own magic. Almost as if he was subtly fearing if it would give up on him if he faced it.

Sirius wondered how Harry would have been right now if he and Griphook had really not interfered into the boy's affairs.

He still remembered how much relief he had felt at seeing Harry after the 'intervention'. It had been almost like seeing a taught balloon deflating. Sure his godson was still plaugued by doubts - for reasons Sirius was still not privy to. But there had been some clarity clarity shining in his charge's eyes after the intervention and he sensed how the tension eased in the teen's thin shoulders somewhat. He had felt his pup's magic – which had at that time become agitated at having been subconsciously held away by its owner – settle back around the boy happily. It had been a beautiful moment and Sirius supposed he would undergo torture at the hands of Harry's whacky furniture all over again, just to ensure his godson became even a tiny bit happier with his efforts.

A nudge to his ribs brought the man out of his memories.

"He will be starting soon," the rough voice belonging to Griphook informed him.

With a small sigh, he set his eyes back on the distant figure on the beach.

* * *

Harry Potter hummed the melody of an old lullaby he had heard Akigla sing to one of the goblin children as he chose to be wilfully blind to the spying of his godfather and goblin friend from behind the edge of the woods.

With precision and patience that he had never shown to the work he had been assigned by his previous tutors, he drew out the secondary runes and circles that he had painfully memorised and drawn a thousand times under Griphook's watch. The runes were in truth, simple. But drawing them out in spiraling designs on the conjured platform – and atop the first set of runes that were already activated no less – was certainly something that made the task difficult.

A low grumble broke his trance-like concentration. Harry ignored it. It was the final day of his fast and he was not about to let hunger distract him. Besides seven days of no food was not something he found terribly uncomfortable after weeks of starvation at the Dursleys.

It had been a necessary requirement for the ritual. To complete the ritual with the rawest of his energy – which for a wizard like him, referred to his magic – he had to not have another source of energy.

(At the back of his mind, Harry appreciated the irony of his situation. Here he was doing a ritual to seek the assurance of his magic about its loyalty to him with the aid of said magic itself.)

The pink in the sky slowly receded. In a few more hours, the Sun would reach the highest point of her journey for the day, marking the official start of his ritual despite his already glowing runes.

Harry eventually reached the last part of his preparations which was to surround the ritual circle with the petal of the Sun's favourite flower, _Sigim Erua_. The flower in question was a sight to behold and Harry had been very reluctant to tear it away from its plant when he had gone to harvest it. Blooming only on midday, the amber coloured flower had almost seemed like golden fire under sunlight. Even its scent was unique and unusual. It had been sweet but smoky and brought the image of a merrily crackling campfire to his mind. But again, ritual rules were meant to be followed – unless he were creating or modifying one, which unfortunately was beyond his expertise still.

Harry let out a soft sigh as he took a moment to watch the creation of his hours of hard work. For a first timer, he supposed he did fine. His runes certainly lacked the elegance that his goblin mentor had had, but it was by no means imperfect or sloppy. And that was good enough for him.

"For now," he thought as he mentally made notes to practice his rune work more.

A quick tempus revealed that he had a minute to go before the Sun reached its position. He could feel the change in intensity of the magic in the air. What had been a slight tingle in the air at the beginning of the day was almost an electrical current now.

He carefully picked up the golden tray he had previously left by the side preparing for his ritual. It was a medium sized matter, plain except for its vivid colour. A sunset coloured silk cloth decorated it.

And in the middle of it all lay a charming little circlet. It was made out of golden-brown twigs and emerald leaves, carefully fortified and preserved to last forever with the aid of tiny runes and his own magic. The goblins had guided him through most of the craftwork except for the runic inscriptions. That had to be handled by expert hands that were most certainly not his.

The crash of the waves against rocks brought his attention back to reality. Harry looked up just in time to see his runes flare up in a brilliant golden light.

It was time.

Steeling himself, he stepped into the innermost circle and tilted his head up, staring directly into the bright ball of flame that was the sun that burned above him.

His eyes burned and tears clouded his vision. But he stood on unflinchingly, letting out his own magic to mingle with the awakened magic in the air and the rune circle.

_Greetings to thee Oh Great Lady – ruler of planets and time. _

_I seek thee, humbly, today to bear witness to my prayer._

_Shine upon this sacred ground and accept the fire-blessed petals that thy heart favours. _

_Accept my humble offering and bless me and mine good luck._

_Shine upon me, Great Lady, and grace me with thy presence._

The heat he was under heightened, bringing more pain behind his eyes. The feeling of being consumed by pure fire overwhelmed him.

Unbeknownst to the child wizard, a ring of magic flared around his outer circle. Tendrils of magic shot out of the circle.

* * *

Sirius tumbled back in surprise as he watched two tendrils of magic shoot towards him and Griphook. His companion however, shot out a hand to steady the surprised wizard.

"Do not move, wizard. This is part of the ritual's effects."

Sirius gave a nod in understanding and steadied himself. He watched in wonder as the tendrils went to him and Griphook respectively, gasping at the slight burn he felt on his arm. Lifting the sleeve of his right arm up all the way to his shoulder, he was surprised to find a tattoo of the Sun in a mix of amber and emerald coloured flames decorating the outer side of his upper arm.

"What is this?"

"The Sun goddess' blessing. She has accepted your godson's prayer and will be bearing witness to his ritual."

Sirius gaped at the goblin.

"But I thought those stories the old paintings in the Black House were sprouting were myths! Usually you feel the magic in the air heighten around you, that's all that signals to you to continue the ritual. Nothing like this," Sirius muttered the last part as he stared at the tattoo in awe.

"This was what is meant to happen if you please the entities of Magic well, wizard. It is just that over the years, the knowledge about these matters have faded with your kind's ignorance and foolish decisions to restrict and abandon certain aspects of magic."

Sirius mulled the revelation in silence. He truly had nothing to reply to that. He was one of those wizards who refused to practice the Olde Ways. Well, he did it more to spite his family rather than because he did not believe in them. But that still left him guilty at never practicing the ancient traditions. Thinking over his new information, he returned his sights on the ongoing ritual on the seashore.

* * *

Queen Akigla of the Goblin Nation stared at the mark of the Sun Lady that resided on her arm. It was a beautiful image, she would admit. The emerald and amber flames intertwining seamlessly around each other seemed to almost portray a sense of mischievous as they danced to an unknown breeze.

Through her bond to her nation, she could sense a few others bearing the same mark of blessing as her. The rest of her nation, however, had not been neglected. They too had received the Sun Lady's blessing, though their marks were simply that of a rune on their upper arms due to their lesser connection to the one who had instigated the ritual with the goddess of time.

The Queen let a small smile bloom on her face as the little one entered her thoughts. She was happy at his success in gaining the goddess' favour. And was heartened that his prayers had extended to her nation despite knowing about them for less than a few weeks.

He was a true friend indeed.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy stared at the runic tattoo of the Sun goddess that adorned her upper right arm. She knew what that mark was. Though the knowledge had been lost to most of the wizarding world, even the Black family, the ancient tomes hidden deep within the Blacks' Ancestral home still guarded the knowledge. And for all Narcissa pretended to have been an obedient daughter, she had always been rebellious in getting information she wanted. Sure, she did not ask again when her elders told her in her youth that those books were not for her to read since she was neither the Head of House (or a male heir). But that did not mean she did not seek them out and read them in secret. She had done nothing wrong, in her opinion. Most of those texts simply lay about collecting dust. The fools that most of the patriarchal Black elders were only kept the books for prestige not knowledge. But books were meant to be read. Therefore, she had only done the right thing.

She let out a soft smile at the warmth the rune subjected her to. For a thing so small and unassuming, it radiated much power. Whoever did the ritual had for sure pleased the goddess.

"But who is it? Who received the Sun Lady's blessings?" she wondered to herself as she let the sleeves of her robe cover the mark of blessing once more. She knew of no one who had planned on doing a ritual this summer. Especially anyone who would consider her family.

Or close enough as a family to be given the runic blessing at the very least. Narcissa was aware that had she been considered close family, she would have received more than a runic tattoo on her arm.

The face of a raven-haired teen that she recently reacquainted with came to her mind.

"No, it couldn't be," she thought. "Harry has yet to learn more about his heritage despite his recent lessons and the aid he gets from the goblins."

The Lady Malfoy frowned in contemplation. While it was logical to dismiss the boy to have attempted the ritual, she knew that the young teen was full of surprises despite his information disadvantage. And while they had yet to be close, Narcissa would admit she regarded the boy as family simply because he had attempted to give their relationship a try despite the reputation her family held. That form of courage and loyalty were qualities she admired in others. She may be a true Slytherin who valued cunning and ambition yes but any intelligent person would know that staying limited to those qualities alone would not get one very far in life.

Still mulling over her thoughts, the former Black headed towards her home's owlery. She might as well ask Harry Potter outright about this potential ritual rather than contemplate theories. The boy, contrary to what her son had painted of him during his bout of petty jealousy at being rejected, was far more friendly and mature than people knew.

Though it was a pity he had declined her invitation to the summer solstice party. It would have made it much easier to ask him matters in person and made the evening much more enjoyable for her.

* * *

The emerald-eyed teen, who was the subject of many people's thoughts, on the contrary was not capable of thinking much over the heat he was being subjected to.

But within a few minutes, said heat lessened to that of a gentle caress and Harry k_new_ somehow that the petals surrounding his runeworks were no longer there. A sliver of joy entered his heart, soothing his worries and nervousness slightly.

The Sun goddess had accepted his request.

He let out the breath he had not realised he had been holding and closed his eyes against the Sun's rays. Now would come the even more difficult part.

_Circle of Power, awaken!_

_And guide me through my aim_

_If my soul is judged as worthy_

_Then grant me the boon I crave_

_Present me to my Mother –_

_She who bears Magic's name._

The rune circle, that had so far simmered silently in amber light lighted up again. Once again Harry found himself being subjected to being judged by unknown entities. He repeated the purpose for this whole endevour in his mind, not letting the stifling silence he was surrounded him intimidate him.

He needed a sign. Anything. He could not go on with all these doubts in his mind about his own magic.

_Please Mother Magic. Please._

Harry felt something within his chest heat up suddenly. A beat later the emerald eyed teen realized it was his own magical core. It heightened in intensity within him and he felt his magic thrum to the beat of his own heart. White light flooded around him and his magic rose, magnifying in power and sentience.

Visions flashed across his mind. The first time his magic had awakened in him as a child, seeking out to grant his wish of getting the toy that was too far away from his crib. The time it had fused painfully with his mother's sacrifice, strengthening itself to protect him despite realising the meaning behind mother's sacrifice - her death. Harry realised with a jolt his own magic had accepted Lily Potter as its mother too, considering it was an extension of Harry himself. The first time his magic healed him while he was sleeping outside the Dursleys' doorstep came next. It had wrapped itself around the foreign presence in his mind, refusing it permission to overtake Harry's own consciousness, protecting its owner with a vengeance Harry had never seen. Following that came various other memories of his magic aiding him to its best - the first time he got a concusssion, the times his bones were broken by Dudley, the time Quirrel fought him, the time the Basilisk and Phoenix venom fought for dominance in his body.

Tears rolled down the teen's closed eyes. Harry felt his magic buzz around him, almost angrily at him, as though it was asking if he wanted anymore evidence?

White light flashed under his lids again. The visions continued.

He watched, enraptured as he say what happened that day he had been mercilessly pushed to his almost death by his cousin. His magic flared in a brilliant white light, coming to his rescue despite his unconscious state under the sea. He watched as it transported him to the moon pool - where natural High Magic was going through its peak under the Moon's guidance. He watched as the magic there embraced him and offered him a better chance to survive.

Then came the memories of the Locket Horcrux where again his magic wrapped itself around the foreign presence it recognised from it first encounter in Harry's mind. Something restricted it from destroying, another higher energy. But it was not going to let a threat continue. So it plunged in still, forcing the foreign magic into a state of inactivity. It would not be able to seek out Harry so long as his magic remained.

The doubts within Harry shattered. A small smile made its way onto his lips, despite the tears now running rivers down his face. He felt his magic pause, sensing his sadness. The fury it had previously displayed at being questioned seemed to evaporate at his distress.

Harry's heart clenched in a strange mixture of guilt, gratitude and fondness. Guilt at doubting his magic, gratitude at its loyalty and fondness at its concern for him.

The teen opened his glistening eyes and stared at the shimmering magic surrounding him in a bright dome. He sought it out, touching it with his consciousness from where it had leaked out from him in its own righteous fury at being questioned.

"I'm sorry, alright? I had to know. I was being a prat but I just had to know. Forgive me magic. I won't question you again."

The air around him stilled. A beat later, Harry laughed as he felt his magic swarm around him in happiness before plunging itself back into his core, which was its home. Harry smiled, accepting it completely without qualms. His internal barriers that had restricted his magic from him fell, allowing his magic free reign once more. He laughed as he felt his magic race around his entire being, reveling in its complete freedom again.

"Thank you. For everything you've been doing," he thought internally. His magic hummed, accepting the gratitude.

Harry stared at the rune circle around him. It was still brimming with power. He stared at the circlet before him, laying unclaimed near his feet. Having completed his goal with the ritual, it should have theoretically been accepted as the gift it was meant to be. But Harry could guess why it was still there.

He sighed.

"I have to grovel one more time, don't I, for my daring at questioning you?" the teen murmured out aloud. Deep within him, Harry sensed his magic hum in amusement and affirmation, retaining its heightened sentience through the power in the ritual circle.

Harry picked up the circlet, touching it to his forehead in respect before looking upwards to the sun again. He was being really reckless, doing this when it was clearly not a part of the ritual. If it backfired – which it had high chances of happening – then Harry prayed he would at least make out of it alive.

The teen closed his eyes again.

_"Goddess of Power,_

_Forgive this doubter's mistake._

_I've learned what I've done wrong my Lady,_

_And my beliefs are no longer frail._

_I plead to you: Have mercy_

_And accept this child's gift to thee_

Harry kept his eyes closed as he felt the magic in the air whirl around him in judgement again for the umpteenth time. He repeated the words 'I'm sorry' in his mind throughout the whole process, feeling both sheepish and anxious.

An agonizing minute later the sensation of a flash of light coming from in front of him had him opening his eyes to see that his gift had vanished from his hands.

A low hum filled the air and an image danced across his mind's eye.

A Lady whose facial features he could not grasp, stared at him from under an ancient Oak tree. She wore a dress made of the finest silks of Nature and was adorned by the Earth's most precious jewels and flowers. Her hair, which reminded him of Akigla's own luscious locks danced in the breeze as the entity swung gracefully on the swing that hung from a branch of the ancient tree. And on her head rested the circlet that he had worked hard to create with the goblins' aid.

Harry let out a gasp in surprise as realization dawned upon him.

And just as quickly as it came, the image vanished from his mind.

"Oh sweet ocean!" was all the teen could utter before his legs gave way under him as the shock took over his system and he collapsed onto the ritual circle, staring absently at the waves across of him.

Distantly he heard the shout of two familiar voices but his mind focused more on the magic around him. Magic that was currently tinkling, as if it were laughing lightly at his reaction.

Harry pouted. Well, what had she been expecting? He had been ready for something to happen to his gift if the deity accepted his apology, like its predicted vanishing. He had imagined that in his mind before. But nobody warned him about visions of the entity herself!

A gentles wind blew over his head, caressing his hair softly. Harry gave a reluctant grin at the silent apology. Ah well, he really could not be complaining about the unexpected vision now, could he? It was a blessing after all that Magic forgave him wholeheartedly.

* * *

"Never do that again!"

"Yes, Paddy."

"I mean, NEVER!"

"Yes, Paddy."

"Like ever. What were you thinking even? No. No more lone rituals for you, young man!"

"Yes, Paddy," Harry repeated with a roll of his eyes, not meaning the agreement one bit. He was sure Sirius would get over the matter in a while. It was not like he had fainted or anything. He simply fell to sit on the floor in shock at the ritual's end. Nothing to make a fuss about.

"I mean it pup. No more."

"Yes, Paddy," Harry replied once more, sharing an amused glance with Griphook – who had long gotten over Harry's fall once he had explained the reason behind it. From the way the goblin's black eyes were glittering, he knew even Griphook shared his opinion that Sirius was simply overreacting. After all, if the man was truly angry and wanted Harry to learn, he would have grounded him by now.

With a sigh and a small sip of water (which he had floated to the air to drink), Harry continued to give false placations to his godfather as he waited for the man to calm down.

Next time, he was going to raise obscurity wards around him before doing rituals. Especially if Sirius was going to be spying. He doubted he would have the patience to go through the current reaction of the man a second time, godfather or no.

"Yes Paddy," Harry replied for the _nth _time to another of the frazzled man's silly request.

Or perhaps he should simply dose the man with a drop of the goblins' potent calming draught.

* * *

**A/N: That random italic part where the sentences were like aligned differently was not my laptop going whacky...That was me trying to make Griphook's thoughts and recollections of conversations seem like they appear one by one almost like a movie flashback effect lmao**

**Idk if it worked or gave any effect but honestly at this point I'm too sleepy to care lol. **

**Also I really hope this chapter makes sense ahahhaa it took so many drafts to get to here...**


	16. Ron's POV

**ALERT!: Read chapter 15 AGAIN before this chapter bcuz i made some changes to it.**

**A/N: Now if you're wondering why i changed the thing - well... I am an idiot. That's why. You know how the summer solstice is during June? I COMPLETELY FORGOT. Which is rather stupid, honestly, because I wrote it down in my bloody notebook that it is on JUNE 22th. I need to borrow Mad-Eye's magical eye at this rate man...**

**So yeah. I rewrote the later parts of chapter 15 (Starting with the intervention where Sirius and Griphook have tea with a grumpy Harry). The gist basically changed from a simple gratitude showing summer solstice ritual to a ritual invoking Magic's presence to answer Harry's doubts, even if it is indirectly. I hope it's ok for yall.**

**Onward with this chapter. I sincerely apologize if it is short. I had another written which is focused on Harry focusing on facing the last full moon before coming back to face Hogwarts but it just didn't click well, you know? So I took a break and wrote Ron's perspective instead for a change. I know usually people say Hermione is the one to get the 'Harry-is-in-trouble' feeling but i think Ron gets it too. He just does not really react very obviously. And since the trio have yet to be put through teenage hormones at the moment - they are just entering teenage years - I think I can focus on their bonds more. Yes, Ron still has jealousy issues but he can still not let that take over his logic.**

**On another note, I was reading the reviews (again ahahaha) and I got reminded of the fact that I never really replied to Aqua Lily's constructive critique that pointed out that perhaps my story plot was unfolding too quickly, especially due to the fact that a lot is happening during the summer holidays. First of all, thanks for voicing that. I went back to reread all my chapters and think through and I condede maybe there is a lot happening. But at the same time, to justify myself, I need certain things to happen that can only happen with the freedom Harry has during the summer hols and while in the constant presence of the goblins. With all the thoughts and ideas that swilrs in my head, I suppose I really did not see that things may be going too quickly as it fits the timeline in my head, you see. I didn't take into the account that readders' perspective might be different.**

**About the fact that perhaps character development is going really fast, I can understand the argument there really. I apologize. This is honestly the first time I'm writing stories so I'm still learning. It's a reason too that I tweaked chapter 15 as I mentioned earlier. Instead of having Harry suddenly come to terms with his magic being on his side immediately, I changed it to be something more of him demanding out of a need to be reassured that his magic won't betray him. And in the end he does regain trust in his own magic and is better assured about it but Harry still will have other demons to overcome. **

**Also, I do want to convey - in case I still haven't done that well - Harry has technically found a secure place he can call home but by no means am I saying that he is completely over his insecurities and neglect at the hands of the Dursleys. He will get better and he will heal but it will take time. Yes, he is focusing more on his studies, setting better expectations fro himself and all that but setting goals and achieving them is a different thing so how Harry gets to his goals is really going to be the part where we see he develops or not, really. I know I wrote that for his studies especially, he had been revising and everything and yes it's true he has done that well but do remember this was spanned out the entire summer with a particularly nasty and strict goblin bearing down on him to get him to break his poor study habits that Harry has had years to perfect. We have yet to see how Harry will function in Hogwarts when he is no longer going to have Fradgrot as an anchor him to be disciplined for his studies. **

**And while I'll admit that Harry has found a novel but strong friendship with the goblins and a family bond with other characters, he still retains his distrust for people in general. But if you got a glimpse into the idea, Harry is actually talking and opening up slowly to one or two of the goblins. So he is also slowly healing. **

**I will do my best to maybe span all that out more throughout the third year of his schooling?**

**Ok this is all in my head though, when I write it out, I have no guarantee that I'll convey it right or even change some things around so we'll see how it goes in the end ahahaha. I know I've typed quite a lot of things above and their probably going to sound all over the place if I read it again - which i'm not going to because it's really late, you guys and I still have homework... (・・；)**

**Please allow me a moment of internal dread.**

**...**

**Ok I'm back.**

**Again, thank you to Aqua Lily for the constructive feedback. I'll do my best to stretch out the plot, though I'm going to have to disappoint you if you hoped for a rewrite because I really don't have the time for that anytime in the near future. Gomen! *BOWS IN APOLOGY* I'll do my best to better span out my plot over a longer timeline but do forgive me if I don't succeed well.**

**Like I said, still learning yall. **

**Also, to all the others who have given me positive feedback and relayed your enjoyment of the story, TYSM! I'm really glad that you guy enjoy this story. That thought alone gives me motivation to keep thinking of new ideas and to keep writing.**

**INSERT SHAMELESS PROMO ****｡(*^▽^*)ゞ ****: I have other hp fanfictions too yall. Check them out if you have time and feel free to review your thoughts. **

**Ok, I've talked (or typed) enough. Let's get on with the story ahahaha.**

**Enjoy! I hope yall like this! (And I need to get back to my geography assignment before my teacher smacks me through the computer screen next lesson.)**

**Adieu folks! And take care of yourself during these trying times.**

* * *

**The day Harry was pushed too far (ie: when he almost drowned in the ocean due to Dudley):**

Ron Weasley was not particularly the best when it came to reading people. Especially their emotions. He knew this fact. But Ron would also like to tell that there was an exception to this fact. Like when the people involved were his family. When that happened, there was simply this feeling in his gut that alerted Ron that something was wrong.

And that feeling was exactly why he had woken up in the middle of the night that day from a particularly bad dream. It left his memory the more he tried to hold on to it but Ron didn't mind it much. He remembered whatever it had been, that dream had not been rather pleasant. It was not a nightmare, honestly, but it was not a good dream either. And worse off, it left Ron strangely worried about his best mate, Harry.

He slipped out of bed, trying to shake off the sense of foreboding in his bones. Walking to the window of the hotel room he was currently in, the red-haired boy threw it open, hoping some fresh air would calm his nerves. The full moon shone down on him from the dark night sky and Ron shivered slightly as its cold light washed over him.

Harry was probably fine. He was likely just panicking for no reason. Ron remembered his mum telling him once that sometimes when people were really stressed or worried, their dreams and feelings often reflected their distress. That must be what he was going through. With the whole situation of Ginny's depression right now, Ron had never felt good in a while. Yes, he was enjoying the family vacation but knowing his sister was still struggling with her trauma at the back of his mind made enjoying the vacation fully a rather difficult task. Ron really wanted to help but he was not sure how. He had started a habit of simply being near Ginny. Be it to just sit quietly at her side randomly or hold her hand silently as they explored the magical pyramids in Egypt. He felt silly honestly and not to mention awkward – but Ginny never rejected his presence so Ron supposed his sister was finding some comfort in his efforts. Still, he knew Ginny was not recovering. She was a far cry from the outgoing, boisterous girl she once was and Ron worried over that.

So, his foreboding gut feeling was simply all that stress in him trying to find an outlet.

It must be.

Ron bit his lip. But the last time he had such a sense of unease, Ron remembered he had to rescue Harry from his relatives with the twins' help.

Ron sent a glance to other side of the room. He could vaguely see the form of the twins sleeping peacefully on the second bed that was available in the room.

He sighed, looking back towards the full moon.

He would give the matter a few more days. He had not received a reply from Harry for his first letter after all – and Ron was not worried about how long it was taking this time round. He was well aware he was very far from London right now. It would probably take a day or two longer for the owl to reach Harry. And when it did, he had to consider a few more days for Harry to reply to it discreetly without his relatives knowing.

Ron took in a calming breath.

Yes. He would wait. If he did not receive a reply within the week, however, he was going to talk to the twins for advice. They took him seriously despite being pranksters. They _understood_ because they had seen the bars on Harry's room too. Ron and the twins never brought up the subject ever since the rescue that summer but he knew that just like him the twins too worried about that discovery at the back of their minds. Their mother had been no help when they tried to tell her and they knew from experience that their father was likely to take their mum's side often. It was an adult thing.

But just because they got no help didn't mean they could not help themselves.

And if in the end Ron had to find some way back to London to rescue his best mate, he would do it, no matter how much trouble he got into. He owed Harry, after all. Harry had saved his sister.

But more importantly, Harry was family too. He was Ron's best mate, the first person who _understood_ Ron. The first person who saw more than a boy who could never live up to his brothers' potential in Ron. The first _friend_ Ron truly had who had stood up for him when they had barely known each other.

That mattered a lot for Ron.

Idly Ron wondered if he should write Hermione just in case. She would also understand Ron's worry. He knew Hermione had a sharper sense for things concerning Harry than even him. It was something he knew the girl had developed over the two years of spending time with him and Harry, getting them out of trouble.

Ron smiled at the thought.

Yes, he would write to Hermione. Even if there was nothing wrong with Harry in the end, it would at least be nice to talk to Hermione too. She may be a _girl_ – which honestly reduced Ron's topics of discussion available to talk with her – but she was _Hermione_. His best friend, like Harry. Talking to her was never a waste of time.

And Hermione would probably point out sensible things about this whole matter to alleviate his worries…

* * *

**The first letter from Harry that summer:**

Ron was relieved. Truly. He was so glad. Harry was alright. He had replied! There was no mistaking that untidy scrawl on the parchment before him.

Ron smiled softly as he felt something within his chest loosen. Honestly. He had enough to worry about with Ginny's unnatural reserved behaviour this summer without needing to wonder if his best mate needed rescuing too.

He had honestly panicked when Hermione's reply to him came back in a span of a two days when Harry had yet to reply in two weeks. It had been scary. It had not helped that Hermione too had confirmed that she was feeling rather uneasy thinking about what happened to Harry. She had apparently written to him on the first day of the summer holidays before even leaving for her own vacation with her parents and had yet to receive a reply.

"Well, she'll be relieved like me now," Ron thought. Harry must have replied to her by now too.

Ron let his eyes take in the parchment and his eyebrows raised themselves despite themselves. It was sure long. Had Ron not already known whose handwriting this was, he would have mistaken it for one of Hermione's essays instead.

Chuckling lightly at the thought, the thirteen-year-old settled himself comfortably into his bed and started reading. The more he read, the more puzzled he became.

The letter was undoubtedly by Harry but something was different. Ron read it again and something clicked in his mind.

Happy.

Harry was genuinely happy. Like the time Ron and the twins had rescued him and took him away from the Dursleys kind of happy. There was no way Harry could be this happy while he was stuck with those despicable relatives of his unless –

Ron's eyes widened.

No. No! Harry would not! Or maybe he would but –

He read the letter again. In no part of the whole thing did Harry even mention the Dursleys or whatever torture those pigs were putting him through. Harry was not really one to complain about it but the feeling of misery often just leaked despite his efforts into his letters often. It was subtle but if one looked for it – like Ron and Hermione often did due to knowing Harry did not like his muggle relatives – they would eventually spot it.

But nowhere on this letter was there any indication of such unhappiness. And Ron could only think of one reason for it.

Harry had _run away_.

The teen read over the letter. It would make sense.

Emotions rose within Ron, conflicted.

On one hand, he was happy for his friend. Harry deserved to be happy. And if it was through running away, well…then it was what it was.

On the other hand, Ron was worried. His family was not in England. Harry could run into all sorts of trouble by himself and Ron hoped that really did not happen. But then again, Harry did know how to take care of himself. From the looks of how happy and secure Harry seemed from the letter, it was likely he probably found a place to stay. It could be somewhere in the Leaky Cauldron or maybe Harry had finally used his money and bought a house.

Now that he thought about that, weren't Harry's ancestors rich? The Potter family was one of the Most Ancient and Noble houses, was it not? He must have plenty of properties to choose and live from.

An ugly sensation rose within Ron. It was quite unfair honestly, that Harry was so rich while Ron's family was so poor.

A memory of Harry dragging him though the dark Hogwarts hall to show him his parents in the Mirror of Erised surfaced in Ron's mind. Immediately Ron felt guilty.

That was wrong of him. While he could not help feel jealous of Harry's wealth, he should remember Harry was not the kind to flaunt it or make others feel inferior about it. He should really just get over the fact that his best mate was rich. And famous.

The memory of Harry's trust vault returned to Ron's mind.

The teen sighed. Doing the right thing and thinking of the right things were harder than what people told you, honestly.

Ron shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

"Focus. Harry is alone. That's more important now," Ron reminded himself.

He let his attention fall back to the letter in front of him. Considering how happy Harry sounded, Ron supposed he was safe too. And since Harry never mentioned about him running away – though Ron was certain he did – he supposed he should not bring up the matter in the letters over the summer. He'll let his best mate pluck up the courage to tell him the truth himself. But if Harry still does not mention anything about his new freedom then, well then Ron was going to have to talk to him.

Because Ron knew that whatever reason Harry had likely run away was a big one. There was simply no other explanation as to why Harry would run away now instead of say first year when he had been introduced to the wizarding world and learnt about his vault – and likely his inheritance. Heck, the boy had never even bough fitting clothes for himself after being reintroduced to the wizarding world. Ron had never questioned it, _knowing_ that it would be one of those matters Harry would imply keep silent about.

_But now that he likely run away, would he be wearing better clothes?_

Images of his scrawny friend in expensive clothes rose to his mind. Ron thought he should feel jealous again and he did feel a twinge of that unpleasant emotion but something about imagining Harry in dark emerald robes that brought out the light in his eyes made him happy. It was vivid contrast to the memory Ron had of the beaten down boy who packed his trunk with an air of walking to his funeral at the end of every school year.

Ironically, Harry had Hermione beat at feeling sad at going away from school the most.

_Yes, Harry would likely be wearing better clothes and he should. He deserves it. Harry deserves to be happy._

Ron shook his head and focused back on the letter.

Whatever triggered Harry's escape from his horrible relatives had to be a serious reason. Ron was sure of it. And knowing Harry, it was probably dangerous too so Ron would not let Harry keep secrets on the matter. He was Harry's best mate! He had to know or else how was he going to look out for Harry properly?

At the back of his mind, Ron debated whether he should talk about the matter to Hermione. He wondered if she had figure out the fact that Harry was not with his relatives already. His likely guess was yes, she had. From the moment she read the letter, most likely. While Ron hated to admit it, Hermione did have better senses when it came to matters about people – especially about Harry. The girl had her own alarm system in his opinion when it came to figuring out if Harry was in trouble. Sometimes, Ron got this tight feeling in his chest thinking about that but he let it go because he really had no idea what it was about, honestly. He knew Hermione cared about Harry as much as he did.

There was that unpleasant, tight feeling in his chest again.

Ron shook himself out of it.

Honestly, feelings were weird. Sometimes he wondered why exactly people needed to have them.

"Focus Ron," he reprimanded himself internally.

So, he should get to Hermione on the matter. She was likely already working herself into a panic at the thought that Harry was alone. The most important thing was to prevent Hermione from doing something that could potentially get Harry mad – such as owling an adult like a Professor or something about Harry's escape. Or something equally worse, like owling Harry with a ten-foot-long reprimand about why he should not have run away. Ron grimaced at the thought. Neither sounded pleasant but Hermione might do that if she were really worried.

No. Ron had to stop that. It was important that Harry enjoy his summer for once – or well twice if you counted the last time Harry came over to the Burrow instead – in his life. He should probably owl Hermione and tell her in detail exactly how bad Harry was when Ron and the twins rescued him. She would probably understand then.

Yeah. That was the best plan, right?

Ron skimmed through the letter once more, letting the happy tone of his friend reach him, now that he had settled the most important matters in his mind. A smile blossomed on his lips. Harry really sounded happy. Ron hoped the feeling would last.

* * *

**The time Harry met his godfather:**

Ron stared at the letter in confusion.

Harry had adopted a dog? What?

Ron was starting to wonder what exactly his best friend was getting into these days. Ever since the arrival of the new letters – that was name Ron called all the letters ever since realising Harry ran away from the Dursleys – Ron was really starting to see a different side of his best friend. The boy was obviously running around getting to know the wizarding world. Despite knowing Ron already knew most of the stuff about the wizarding world, Harry had kept excitedly sending him letters each week about the new things he was learning and seeing. He was hiding many things too, Ron could tell but when he had asked once about the matter, Harry had said he rather not explain it over letters. Ron had accepted that but he seriously had no idea what could be that important that Harry simply could not tell it through a letter.

But it was fun to see his best mate ooh and aah over matters he found simple and natural about the wizarding world, however. It was funny too because Ron simply could not imagine Harry with a dumbfounded expression like he imagined him to have when first discovering these matters about the wizarding world.

However, right now, amusement was the farthest thing from Ron's mind. Puzzled was a better description.

Harry had adopted a dog.

He had gone and adopted a stray dog. (A stray dog that sounded suspiciously like a Grimm if the descriptions he was reading was right.)

And then named it Padfoot.

Ron was torn between feeling fearful for his friend – Seriously! It's a bloody Grimm – and feeling exasperated.

Perhaps he should warn Harry to be careful, just in case. The muggle-raised boy likely did not know about the beliefs around a grim. Still, if Harry was well enough to write a letter to him about this dog that he has supposedly adopted a few days ago, then perhaps Ron was simply overreacting.

But why in the world did Harry need a dog again?

Ron had nothing against dogs, honestly but he was simply puzzled by the fact that Harry gave no reason for his spontaneous adoption.

Ron shook his head and muttered under his breath. His best mate was weird sometimes.

* * *

**The time Harry's letter did not go to Ron:**

Ron paced his room, mind whirling with millions of thoughts as he chewed on the muffin he had snuck under his clothes during breakfast.

Harry had written to Ginny. And then his parent and Ginny are now fighting.

It made no sense.

But Ron knew that the letter Harry had sent Ginny was the reason for all this. He wondered though what exactly could be in it that Ginny would get so fiery suddenly with Mum and Dad.

Ron bit his lip. He knew Harry was not the kind to create problems. But whatever he had written was the reason why his family was so tense right now.

He settled down into his bed, pulling out a spare parchment and quill from his trunk.

He might as well ask Harry what was going on.

A part of his brain also supplied that he should remind Harry that it was rather rude of Harry to not send _him_ a letter when they were best mates. Honestly! _Best mates!_ Harry could have simply sent a note to say hi _at the very least_. It had been upsetting when Hedwig had flown away from him without giving a letter, though at least Hedwig did come back to nip his fingers lightly in affection. If the bloody owl could be nice, why couldn't Harry?

Ron squashed down his rising ire again when he remembered the utter annoyance he had felt at watching Ginny receive the letter from Harry instead of him.

Seriously, he was feeling too much emotion for one summer.

* * *

**The day Harry gave Ron a book:**

Ron stared at it in disgust.

He let his gaze fall back onto the letter he was holding to distract himself from it. At least the book was thin.

Harry's letter made him sort of angry. Harry had basically refused to tell him what was going on with him, Ginny and his parents, claiming it was not his place to tell. He told Ron to ask Ginny directly instead.

Ron both understood it and did not understand it at the same time and the matter frustrated him. Honestly, he was literally Ginny's brother. Whatever involved her welfare involved him. He had a duty as the big brother.

Well, as one of the big brothers if anyone wanted to get technical.

But right now, something else caught his attention. Harry was hinting there was more about the whole situation that even what Ginny and his parents were aware about. It was subtle but the hint was there, just slightly obvious enough for even Ron to pick up on it. Harry had promised to tell him the matter on one condition.

Ron sighed. He knew his decision even without needing to think about it.

The freckle-faced teen sent a disgusted glance to the book on his right.

_The Art of Occluding The Mind_

Well at least Hermione will be going through this too. Harry had said he was going to make her learn Occlumency too.

His eyes glanced down at the last paragraph.

_As for not sending you a letter, I'm sorry mate! It's just, what I discovered (which pertains to Ginny's situation so I have to remain vague again about that matter) was really important and urgent and I really, really needed to inform her quickly. I'm afraid in the rush to do that I forgot about writing you a letter mate._

_I'll buy you a heap of chocolate frogs to make it up, alright? How about that? It can be what we could do during the first Hogsmeade trip in school this year._

Ron sighed again, the anger he was feeling draining as he imagined just how amused Harry was probably feeling as he wrote the apology. After the initial cool down, Ron truly regretted acting rather childishly.

Honestly, Harry forgot to send him a letter and he snaps. How disgusting. Perhaps he should tell Harry that he didn't need to buy him chocolate frogs for him being silly. But that would mean, Ron would have to admit to being silly. He huffed at his dilemma.

Ron eyed the Occlumency book he had received again. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of reading a book that was clearly not in his syllabus or related to quidditch.

Ah well, he'll chalk the chocolate frogs to be Harry's way of appeasing him for the obvious trauma Ron has to endure at reading the book.

With another sigh, the redhead picked up the book and started to read, repressing another shudder.

Honestly, the things he did for his best friend.

* * *

**The day Ron confronted his sister:**

Ron was torn. On one hand, he wanted to comfort his very distressed sister. On the other however, he really wanted to continue his ongoing argument with his parents to get them to _understand_. In the end he chose the former. Fred and George were doing a splendid job at the arguing roles right now.

Ron wrapped his arms around Ginny, vaguely remembering having done that in his younger years when he had to occasionally look after Ginny when their mum was busy taming the twins' latest pranks and mischievousness. The gesture was extremely awkward, in his opinion. It had been quite some years since Ginny needed this form of caring (discounting casual brother-sister hugs that went around their household) and Ron was a healthy, young teenager, so he suddenly found the notion of comforting his sister – who was a _girl_ – rather disconcerting, for some reason.

But the way Ginny's arms latched onto him proved that his hug was very much appreciated and in the wake of feeling his sister's mildly trembling body, all thoughts of awkwardness fled from Ron's mind.

When did Ginny become so fragile? So thin? Why had he not noticed it before? Guilt gripped Ron's heart.

"Do you want it, Ginny?" he asked gently.

He waited anxiously for her response. He was torn himself on the matter they had found out about. At the back of his mind, Ron understood where his parents' refusal was coming from. The truth of his family's financial status always made him bitter. He often thought it simply was not fair. And he was not going to lie either, he was still jealous of Harry's very obviously rich status. But –

Ron took a breath.

But Ron also knew Harry better than most. He still remembered Harry offering the gold in his vault to his family. He still remembered Harry staring at the Mirror of Erised with a hungry gleam, stating in a rather trance-like voice that he could see his parents. He still remembered how his friend had been imprisoned at his relatives' house and he had a niggling suspicion there might be more the story. He could not really understand why those muggles would be so mean to Harry, honestly. They were his family, after all. But having seen their treatment of Harry and having seen the way Harry rarely received presents from them and always wore his school robes to hide his tattered clothing – seriously, even Ron's hand-me-down robes were better than what his best mate had and that was saying something – Ron knew Harry was not the type to flaunt his wealth at them. No matter how jealous he was that his best friend had money, he could not ignore the truth that Harry would rather die than act like say Malfoy.

And more importantly, he knew Harry was not the kind to hurt anyone else. He saved Ginny despite barely knowing her, for Merlin's sake. In fact, he was rather sure Harry saved Ginny simply because Ron was distraught at losing his sister and that notion sent a warm feeling in Ron's chest. Harry may not have had true family with his blood relatives but he was as good as family in Ron's mind.

Thus, knowing Harry like that, Ron knew this matter had nothing to do with money. No. It boiled down to something more important – Ginny's wellbeing.

He felt his sister's shaky nod against his chest and wrapped her tighter in his embrace.

"I didn't want it at first," Ginny's voice was unnaturally soft and unsteady. Ron did not like it at all. His sister was usually loud and boisterous – not exactly feminine but it still suited Ginny fine considering she had grown up with six brothers after all. And anyone who had a problem would find themselves facing six wands.

"Mum said I was strong. That it will all go away," A hiccup cut her speech. "But it hasn't. I want the nightmares to go away, Ron. Harry promised it would help. Harry wouldn't lie about that would he?"

Ginny trembled more.

"This is all my fault. Everything is! I messed up! I should have never opened that diary!"

Ron rubbed Ginny's back, shushing her.

"No, Ginny. You did nothing wrong. You didn't know! And you fought back too when you realised something was wrong! You fought against You-Know-Who! You've not done anything wrong."

"But – but –"

"Ssshhhh..." Ron held his sister tightly. "Trust me Ginny. You did nothing wrong."

Ginny continued trembling in his arms. A while later however, a pair of brown eyes peeked up at him from where they had been previously buried into his chest.

"Ron, is it wrong for me to want the mind-healing sessions? I know we can't afford – afford it but –" Ginny buried her head into his chest again. "But I really cannot stop these nightmares!"

Ron shook his head gently.

"No Ginny. It's not wrong. Look Harry himself said you don't need to worry about the money. Harry's offering to pay." Ron felt a sour taste in his mouth at that. He knew Weasley pride and he knew exactly why his parents were reluctant. "You don't worry about the money, okay?"

"But – but I owe him so much already! I can't keep leeching of him like that!"

Ron tightened his arm around his sister.

"No. Look Ginny, we'll find a way to repay him, alright? If it helps, I promise you that I'll find a way to repay Harry for his help. Even if it takes me years! If I have to get a job right now and pay him back, I'll do it for you. Heck our entire family would do that for you - especially mum and dad, once me and the twins get them to see reason. And Harry's really nice, alright? He'll give us time. I could ask him to wait till I finish graduating and getting a job and he'll surely –"

"No."

Ron paused, glancing down to the suddenly still figure of his sister. Brown orbs stared back at him, determination, glinting in their eyes.

"I will pay back my debt, brother."

Ron stared at Ginny, taking in the determined glint in her eyes and that upward tilt of her chin that conveyed the famous Weasley pride. He knew then and there his sister would do it herself even if it took her a thousand years.

He gave a soft smile, welcoming the glimpse back into the old Ginny even if it were likely to be for a moment.

"Then there you have it, Ginny. Problem solved. Don't fret over it."

Ginny gave a small smile in return, the first genuine smile she had given all summer and relaxed in his hug.

"Thank you, Ron."

Ron placed a light kiss onto his sister's forehead, remembering how Ginny used to love that as a child.

"What are brothers for?"

* * *

**The day Harry did a ritual:**

Ron smiled as he watched his sister laugh at the twins and Charlie's silly antics. He could feel that for the first time in the vacation, his whole family was feeling happy. The teen served himself another plate of Mahshi – a vegetarian dish that was surprisingly tasty to him, despite being a meat lover. Egyptians made good food.

But having a picnic in a desert was certainly a novel experience.

Ron looked around, taking in the numerous other tourists who were picnicking like his family. A vast expanse of sand surrounding all around them, stretching miles around. Far away, he could make out the shape of a pyramid that they had visited a few days back. He had no idea who thought eating here was a good idea. Had it not been for cooling charms, Ron was certain he would be melting under the sun's heat. Even now he felt slightly warm despite the charms' effects.

Ron let out a yawn.

"Tired?"

He turned to find Bill – his oldest brother – settle down beside him, giving him a small grin. Ron nodded. He had spent a considerable amount of time playing with Ginny and the others before coming back to the picnic mat to sit down and munch on some food. Coupled with the lethargy that came with a satisfied stomach, the exhaustion from fooling around beforehand was starting to show in Ron.

"Hang in there buddy, we'll be going back to the hotel soon."

"About time," Ron yawned again. He idly wondered if he should take a nap before resuming with the sightseeing his family likely had planned for the afternoon.

Yeah. A nap sounded good to him.

* * *

Ron woke up with a gasp as he felt his arm burn. Pulling up the sleeve of his right arm, he was assaulted by a bright white light. Ron blinked, clearing away the spots in his vision. As the flare faded, he stared dumbfounded at the sight of a tattoo decorating his skin. It was made of up amber and emerald colours, depicting the image of the sun in all its glory. It was brilliant, honestly but Ron had no idea how it came about.

The young teen ran a finger across the image. Warmth poured from it and strangely, Ron was reminded of his best mate. Memories of the times he had spent with Harry flashed across his mind.

The day he met Harry on the train, the times they spent bonding over the horror that was homework, the times they walked around lifelessly as they worried over Hermione's petrified state –

Ron stopped thinking, not wanting to remember that time. It had been horrible enough living through it. Remembering it again was not going to help him. Hermione had become a stone statue and Harry had lost the light in his eyes. Ron had felt terrible and useless, not knowing how to help either of his best friends or stop his own despair at what was happening.

A burst of warmth washed over him, pulling him away from his solemn thoughts. It encompassed him in a reassuring embrace.

Ron frowned, content but confused.

He supposed, considering how strongly the tattoo was reminding of Harry, that this must have something to do with his best friend. Again.

Honestly, what was Harry up to nowadays?

The sound of footsteps outside his room however interrupted his investigations of the mysterious mark. He pulled down his sleeve, covering his arm and fell back onto the bed, feigning sleep. He heard the sound of the twins making their way over to their beds with hushed but excited whispers.

Ron supposed he would have to ponder on the tattoo later. He certainly was not going to tell anyone about it. At least not anyone in the family. Telling any of his siblings meant his mum would inevitably find out and then proceed to reprimand him. His parents were still rather jittery around mysterious objects considering Ginny's possession last year. And though Ron knew this was not the same kind of situation, he was still reluctant to share about it.

The tattoo, though new, seemed sacred to him. He could feel something within him feeling proud at even having earned to get the image of the sun on his skin. As though he had proved himself worthy of something.

Ron liked that feeling and if he was going to share it, he wanted to share it first with Harry and Hermione. While he loved his family, his best friends had been the one whom he often shared achievements with. Things like scoring an EE occasionally in his subjects were matters that his parents never really appreciated to the full extent. They had five children who already did that or better in the house. Ron did not blame them, knowing the matter was not likely a big matter in truth.

But Harry had always given him a bright smile whenever Ron got a good grade and Hermione's look of pride – despite the score being nowhere as good as hers – always made Ron happy. Happy and motivated that Ron did try harder for his homework despite finding it difficult to study properly. He even tolerated Hermione's nagging for it.

A snort from the twins' bed, where the two were obviously planning some other elaborate prank scheme, brought Ron's mind back to his reality.

The redhead turned around to face away from the direction of the twins' bed. He would tell Harry and Hermione first about this strange tattoo. With their input, he would decide whether or not he should tell his parents and family about it.

* * *

**A/N: What are your thoughts? Do you guys like this perspective? Was it drier than the previous chapters? And for all those who long ago figured out exactly who Harry had been planning to write after the locket hocrux incident, good job! I don't know whether I want to be happy you figured it out or sad that I am terrible at suspense lmao.**

**Also, do you guys want Harry to do something in particular for the upcoming full moon? I remember someone suggesting the siren for when Harry looking for potential mates (man I loved that suggestion, it was funny to simply think of the ways Sirius would get a heart attack at the prospect of Harry dating if he were gg to go for being an over-protective godfather). But maybe the siren needs to wait for a few more full moons.**

**Any thoughts or ideas you want? I can't guarantee I will write it out but I can try. And any idea to make Sirius' sweat a little and go crazy at having to take care of a loopy Harry is welcome.**

***cue evil laughter***

**MUAHAHAHAHHAA**

**ok i'm done.**

**Goodbye :)**

**Take care everyone!**


End file.
